


please, please, please, let me get what i want, this time

by ThePurpleAvenger



Series: Mutants and Mechs [2]
Category: The West Wing, Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Allspark shenningans, Daphne is smol blue and anxious, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Holoforms, Longing, OC is a POV character, Romance, Slow Burn, Very Liberal, Yearning, You've been warned, angst angst angst baby, basically a rework of one of my other fics, but very very very long, even the confession of love will be angsty hehe, have hella characters from other fandoms cause i don't wanna make my own ocs, like this is gonna be long long, no incest here sir, oh to yearn and long over someone you have a telepathic bond with, okay so this is my quarantine project, real slow burn baby, real slow burn means you have to wait over 120k words baby, relationship oriented, something to get me through these trying times, the points of the triangle DO NOT touch, this bitch will be finished, this is an angle not a triangle, will probably add more relationships, yearning and longing hours, you will not get any romance until the angst goblin has been fed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 124,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23407489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePurpleAvenger/pseuds/ThePurpleAvenger
Summary: Daphne Winters was just trying to be normal for the first time in her life. After spending her formative years at Xavier's School for the Gifted Youngsters, she attempted to blend in at college. She no longer goes by her superheroine moniker Celestial, no longer wears clothes with her school name emblazoned on the front, and no longer uses her mutation. She attends classes at Berkley, go to parties, and is the definition of what a young woman should act like. For all intents and purposes, Daphne is normal. But, it seems destiny has other plans. After accidentally walking into a battle between two warring alien robot factions, Daphne is thrown into a different, weirder world than the one she tried to leave behind. And there's no going back to normal after this.
Relationships: OC/Sideswipe, Sideswipe/Oc/Sunstreaker, Sunstreaker/OC/Sideswipe, oc/sunstreaker
Series: Mutants and Mechs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/697659
Comments: 74
Kudos: 96





	1. panic on the streets of mission city

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girl shouldn't expect a battle when she goes shopping.

Daphne Winters squinted into the bright fall sun, pulling her sunglasses onto her face. The bell on the shop's door jingled as she stepped outside, a light breeze ruffling her short hair. Clutching her bag under one arm, she dug around in it, triumphantly pulling out her phone. She had a text from her grandmother, asking her if she was coming home for lunch. She quickly replied no, making her way down the street towards a Thai place she had noticed earlier. 

After her college decided to graciously give their students a four day weekend after midterms, Daphne had decided to fly out and see her grandmother in Mission City, Colorado. She deserved this break after the grueling midterms her professors had put her through. She had wanted to gouge her own eyes out after finishing a paper on the fourth amendment at five in the morning for her constitutional law class. She was so tired that her control over her mutation had slipped and she accidentally fried her professor's computer. Luckily, her prof hadn't noticed the blue sparks that had leaped from her fingertips, merely scratching his head and muttering about technology. 

An older lady passed her on the street, her eyes going to Daphne's mess of blue curls. The older woman's lip curled in disgust, projecting her thoughts loudly- _kids these days and their loud hair, that slut will never find a husband_. Daphne fought the urge to stick her tongue out at her, knowing it would only cause trouble and questions as to why she knew what the older woman was thinking. It was not a good time to be a mutant in America, especially after the Mutant Registration Act had passed two years ago, and Daphne didn't want to end up on the five o'clock news.

Before she could do something she regretted, she could feel her back stiffen, the hairs stand up on her arms, her mouth going dry as a bunch of cars screeched to a stop on the side street. She could feel a rush of energy go through her as a bunch of military guys hopped out of trucks, carrying a variety of weapons, radios, and flares. Behind the military vehicles were four civilian cars, one the bright yellow of a Starbust, another a lime green search and rescue truck. People passing Daphne on the street exchanged confused glances but kept walking. But, Daphne felt like she couldn't. 

Her mutation awoke in a rush, her fingernails going blue and her hair starting to float above her as her magic flowed into her. "No, no, no," she muttered under her breath, but the more she tried to press her magic down, the more it pounded through her veins. The only times her magic, her mutation, came alive without her prompting were times she was in danger, like when a bunch of Purifiers cornered her and Rogue in an alley. _Listen_ , her magic seemed to say, _listen to what they're saying. You're needed_. 

Daphne let out a shuddering breath, but did what her intuition told her, knowing the sooner she addressed the supposed danger, the sooner she could go back to pretending she was normal for a change. Closing her eyes, for the first time in more than a year, she used her telepathy, focusing on the group of men and the military ahead of her. Gritting her teeth against the sudden overload she searched for the danger-

_-Megatron escaped - they're coming here - comms are dead - Mom and Dad are totally going to kill me - where did that other truck go? - we have to protect the kid and the Cube - oh shit, they're coming_.

Swaying on her feet, Daphne opened her eyes, steadying herself against a street lamp. According to the collective thoughts of the people in front of her, Mission City was about to become the center of thousands of years of conflict between two alien races that happened to be robots that disguised as cars (which is just all kinds of crazy she did _not_ have the time to address). And, a teenager needed to get a cube to a helicopter. If she hadn't experienced their thoughts herself, she would have never believed what she just heard. 

Even though she knew the gravity of the situation, she still wanted to run away. Yeah, it may be cowardly and selfish, but Daphne was scared. Scared of the destruction that was going to rain down upon the city, scared of the loss of life that was surely going to occur, scared of being outed as a mutant when mutants were being treated as criminals. In her head, she could hear the Professor's voice, telling her _as a mutant, Daphne, as someone with the power and potentiality to protect and to help, you must do what you can._

Sighing, she knew what she had to do. Daphne stopped trying to clamp down on her mutation, letting it freely flow through her, feeling it gather in her palms, feeling it settle over her body like a second layer of skin. Rolling her shoulders back and standing up straight, she walked up to the caravan, feeling the curious eyes and thoughts of soldiers land on her. She walked up to the leader, _Captain William Lennox_ , gleaning his name from his thoughts. He was talking hurriedly with one of the soldiers before she tapped him on the shoulder. 

Whipping around, Lennox, looked down at her, his face covered in dirt and dust. "Miss, you need to leave the area, it's not-"

"I think I can help," she interrupted, meeting his eyes coolly. 

Lennox frowned, his forehead crinkling. "Miss, I don't believe you know what's going on."

"I believe I do, Captain Lennox," she answered. Before he could ask her how she knew his name, she dug into her pocket and handed him a card that she had carried with her every day for two years. As he read it, she already knew what was making his eyes widen. 'Mutant Registration Card,' it read on the top. _Daphne Elizabeth Winters. 19. Female. 5'5. Blue eyes. Blue hair. Class Omega, level 8. Certified at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Powers of telepathy and electromagnetism_. This card was her great shame, the great shame of every mutant who had one. But to Lennox, this was not a shame, no, this was what he was looking for. 

The captain looked at her, his trained eyes noticing how her hair floated and light blue mist covering her. "You can know what's going on?" he asked, holding out her card. He didn't seem uncomfortable at all with the idea of her reading his mind and she felt a wave of relief go through her. She nodded, sticking the plastic back into her pocket. "You can fight?"

"Yes, sir," she replied. "Trained by the Wolverine."

He let out a low whistle, his mouth quirking up into a smile. "Then welcome to to 'Operation: Save the World.' Stay near me or the soldiers, don't get hurt, and protect the Cube. You got it, kid?"

Nodding jerkily, Lennox seemed satisfied by Daphne's response. He turned to the rest of the group, and her eyes went wide as she heard mechanical screeches coming from the cars. Although she had seen the image of the mechanical behemoths in the minds of the soldiers, she was unprepared to see it in real life. The cars shifted into robots before her eyes, looming above her and the rest of the humans. Daphne could feel energy pouring off of them, unlike any kind of energy she had ever felt before, her magic quivering.

There were four of them in a dizzying array of colors. There was a small, silver one that seemed to take charge, his blue optics glowing behind a visor. _Jazz,_ she gathered from Lennox's mind, left in command while their, the Autobots', leader was gone. A bigger, much taller black one grunted, his arm turning into a cannon, shooing away the soldiers that gathered near him. This one was named Ironhide, seemingly hostile towards the soldiers, but was the biggest gun Lennox had at the moment. The next one, Ratchet, was only slightly smaller than Ironhide, a sickly greenish color. He was a medic, but was pulling double duty as a frontliner.

Two teenagers were standing by the yellow one, Bumblebee, that seemed younger than the other three, smaller than the rest, excluding Jazz. The boy held a cube, no, the Cube, in his hands. The same kind of energy the Autobots emitted was streaming from the Cube, much more potent and powerful. Her magic crackled as she made her way over to the two teenagers, the only civilians in this operation. Granted, she could have been named a civilian, but she had the training they didn't, and they were the ones the Autobots, the soldiers, and now her, needed to protect. 

The boy, Sam, looked towards her, his conversation with Mikaela put to a pause. "Who are you?" he asked cautiously, his eyes going to the visible manifestation of her power, the blue static that surrounded her. 

Daphne held up her hands, giving them a smile. Mikaela relaxed, but Sam shifted back towards Bumblebee, clutching the Cube in his hands protectively. "Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm here to help. Lennox," she jerked her head towards Lennox who was deep in conversation with another soldier, Epps. "-said I could help to protect the Cube," she said, pointing towards the Cube in his hands. "And you," she added.

"And how can you help?" he asked, his brown eyes wide and beady. She felt a wave of sympathy go through her. Sam was sixteen, almost seventeen, and wasn't prepared for these kinds of situations. He reminded Daphne of herself when she went on her first mission with the Professor and the X-Men- scared, confused, and totally unprepared. 

"I am a mutant," she answered, and she felt the attention of Ratchet, their medic, flick towards her curiously. "And a lower level Omega. So I've got the firepower you need to protect you and the Cube."

Mikaela let out a low whistle, and once Daphne had gotten the other girl's approval, Sam visibly relaxed. "That's cool. I've never met an Omega level before. Hell, I've only met one mutant before you before."

"I'm Sam," he said suddenly, moving quickly towards her and shaking her hand. He winced slightly at the static shock and she smiled in apology. "This is Mikaela, and this is my Guardian, Bumblebee."

Daphne could hear the affection in Sam's voice and she smiled at it. Bumblebee waved at her and she waved back. "Daphne Winters. And I'm here to help you save the world."

Bumblebee whirled in approval. " _She's a bad bitch,_ " he said through his radio. She laughed, but her mood quickly changed as green smoke started to fill the air. 

Daphne moved towards Lennox, gesturing for Sam and Mikaela to stay near Bumblebee. "Raptor, raptor, do you copy?" she could hear Epps say, holding up a walkie talkie to his mouth. "We have your visual. Green smoke is the mark. Provide air cover and vector Black Hawks for extraction."

A jet flew over the city and Daphne felt a shiver go down her spine, the hairs on her arms standing up. "Something's not right!" she yelled. She let her magic pour out of her, converting the solar, electromagnetic energy into a suit of living metal around her. _This_ was her mutation, her power, her magic, why she was considered an Omega class mutant. Blue armor surrounded her, covering her from neck to toe, glinting in the sunlight.

Epps and Lennox whipped around towards her, the Autobot Jazz turning his arm into a cannon. "Yo, kid, what do you mean something ain't right, nothing-" Jazz began, but Daphne saw his blue optics widen behind his visor. 

"It's Starscream!" Ironhide yelled as the jet transformed into a robot above them. The citizens of Mission City started to scream, running for cover. _Oh, fuck,_ Daphne thought, backing up towards Sam and Mikaela. Ironhide started to flip a semi-truck on its side to form a barrier, Bumblebee running up to help them, leaving the two teens vulnerable and unprotected. 

Daphne felt her training kick in, turning towards the two teens, their eyes wide and panicky. Sam had a death grip on the Cube as she ran up to them, pushing them behind her. "Stay behind me," she ordered, seeing Starscream shoot a missile towards them. On pure instinct, Daphne pushed Sam and Mikaela to the ground, throwing up a barrier of blue energy. The missile hit, feeling the ground vibrate around them, gritting her teeth to keep her shield intact.

As the dust settled she cautiously let her barrier fall. Sam and Mikaela stood up, but Daphne kept them behind her. "You guys okay?" she asked, and Mikaela nodded, keeping a death grip on Sam. She scanned the now ruined street, Ironhide rising from the rubble, her stomach lurching when she couldn't spot Bumblebee.

"Where's Bumblebee?" Sam asked, and when he couldn't find the yellow Autobot, he ran out from behind her, dragging Mikaela with him. Daphne moved to follow and protect them, but she saw Jazz looming behind them, searching for his fellow soldier. 

She spotted Lennox and Epps, both looking infinitely more bloody and dusty than they had a few minutes prior. Daphne jogged up to them, keeping one eye to the sky and the other to the rubble around them. "Hey," she said, stopping by Lennox. Epps nodded her way, the only moment of introduction she could get in a warzone. "Any casualties?"

Lennox shook his head, running a hand through dirty brown hair. "The two kids and the Cube okay?"

"Yeah," she answered, flexing her fingers, watching the living armor shift around her movement. "Got a shield up before the missile hit."

"How'd you know there was trouble?" Epps asked curiously, reloading his gun and taking a drink of water. 

She smiled, tapping her head. "My mutation. Comes in handy sometimes," she replied, flashing him a half-smile. "What's the plan, Captain?" she asked, directing her attention towards Lennox. 

"Get the Cube to the Fraisier building, that one-" he pointed to the tallest building, about half a mile to a mile away from their current position. "-over there. Get it to the Airforce and get it the hell out of here."

Before she could reply, Daphne heard her name being called. She turned to see Sam frantically waving her over and a flash of yellow behind him. "Oh shit," she muttered, walking quickly towards them. 

Bumblebee was sitting on a towtruck... legless. Mikaela was tying chains around him to keep him secure, but Daphne's attention remained on the Autobot. "Bee, your legs..." she said quietly. 

Bee shrugged, but she could see the pain in his eyes he kept hidden from the two teens. " _Just doing my job, little lady,_ " he played, and she felt a wave of sympathy go through her. 

"Don't worry, we'll get you out of here," she promised, seeing out of the corner her eye Lennox jogging up to them. 

"Mikaela, you need to get that truck out of here, and Sam you need to get the Cube out of here," Lennox instructed and Mikaela gave the soldier the stink eye. 

Sam shook his head, placing his hand on Bee's knee. "I'm not leaving Bee or Mikaela," he added. Bee started to whirl in protest, but Sam waved him off. "Someone else can take the Cube, I need to stay here and help Bumblebee."

Lennox swore, glaring at the teen. "Are you out of your mind? We don't have anyone else who can take, everyone else needs to protect _you_ and the Cube."

"I could do it," Daphne said suddenly. Lennox, Sam, Mikaela, _and_ Bee looked at her in surprise, and even Daphne was surprised at her answer. She met all of them not even twenty minutes ago and didn't have a real stake in this (besides, you know, not wanting the world to get taken over by a homicidal maniac). Yet, here she was, ready to risk her life so a boy could stay with his friend. 

"Are you sure?" Lennox asked, Sam looking at her hopefully. 

"Absolutely," she answered. "I'm better prepared for this and better protected than Sam. And besides," she added, cracking her neck and giving them a fierce smile. "It'll just be another Danger Room sesh, except now I could actually die," she joked. 

Lennox let out a sigh and nodded. "Alright," he said, and Sam quickly thrust the Cube into his hands. She could feel the energy pouring out of it and greedily sucked it in. Her magic purred in appreciation, her armor flashing on her skin. "Sam, Mikaela, you need to get Bumblebee out of here now, you understand?" The two teens nodded, fixing the chains around Bumblebee. Lennox turned her attention back to her. "The pilots will be looking for a flare of some kind. You know what to do?" Daphne nodded in confirmation. 

"Daphne," came a gruff voice and she looked up in surprise. It was Ironhide that had spoken, the three remaining Autobots surrounding her. "While we may not know you, anyone who is willing to protect the Cube is an ally of the Autobots. We will protect you." Both Ratchet and Jazz nodded in agreement, with Lennox nodding in confirmation that she would have the protection of his soldiers. 

"Okay," she breathed. "Let's do this." 

As soon as she said that, the sky above her exploded into fire, bullets and plasma flying. She ran towards the Fraisier building, ducking to avoid friendly fire. Jazz stuck by her side, the two bigger Autobots taking the brunt of the attack. Daphne could see two Decepticons in front of her, and for the first time since this had all started, she started to be scared.

A stray blast from one of the Decepticons crashed into a building next to her, sending debris flying. Daphne quickly threw up a shield, feeling the heavy pieces of cement bounce off of it and falling to the street. She could hear the sounds of the firefight all around her, and she fought the urge to cover her ears. 

"Keep going, Daphne!" Ironhide yelled from ahead of her.

"Fuck," she panted but kept running, Jazz sending out two blasts in quick succession, most likely towards the source of the stray blast. 

She heard the sound of a sonic boom above her, looking up to see a jet bigger than Starscream crash into a building a few blocks away. The jet transformed into the biggest robot she had ever seen and she felt the cold caress of fear run its fingers down her back. "It's Megatron!" Jazz yelled, veering off towards the building. Ratchet fell back, taking up Jazz's position, firing off shots from beside her.

"Be careful!" she yelled, and the silver Autobot turned and gave her a wink. Daphne kept running, keeping a tight grip on the Cube. A blast came out of nowhere, knocking her down and blowing Ratchet down the street. She picked herself up, glancing back towards the medic. 

Ratchet waved her off, shooting at one of the Decepticons. "Go, Daphne, go!" he yelled and she didn't hesitate, turning and running down one of the side streets to get out of the thick of the battle. 

She could hear her heavy breathing, her heartbeat echoing in her ear, but she kept going, her magic and the energy of the Cube keeping her going. She spotted the Fraisier building ahead and she let out a sigh of relief. Running into the building, she heard a crash outside. 

"Give me my Cube!" a deep voice bellowed. _Megatron,_ Daphne thought, her stomach sinking as she realized what that meant for the silver Autobot she had seen only moments earlier. She sped up, spying the stairs and taking them two out a time. As she neared the third floor, she heard the booming steps bellow her and the voice of the Decepticon leader. "I can smell you, girl!"

"Jesus H. Christ," she muttered, her heart pounding in her chest as threw open the door on the roof. The sun blinded her for a moment, the rays turning her vision black. She fumbled onto the roof, holding the Cube in one hand, gripping the ladder in the other. Even through her armor, she could feel her sweaty palms, feel her anxiety threaten to take over. _Good God, not know,_ she thought to herself, pulling herself onto the dusty roof.

She wanted to breathe for a second, but knew two things: one, if she paused, Megatron would surely catch her, probably eat her, and most likely take the Cube and end life as the world knew it, and two, the adrenaline would disappear and the anxiety and the fear and the crippling panic would breakthrough _(panic on the streets of Mission_ City). Just like in Seattle. Just like when she failed her team, her friends, her-

"I want my Cube, girl!" she heard beneath her and Daphne broke out of her trance, scrambling to get up. In her lapse of concentration, her armor had started to melt away, leaving behind pale skin and the aches and pains started to set in.

"Mother _fucker_ ," she swore, gripping the Cube so tightly she could feel its sharp edges dig into her palms. It seemed like the Cube heard her cries of pain and it pulsed, sending a wave of energy up her arms, her armor reappearing instantly, forming on her skin seamlessly, almost as seamlessly as the Autobots' own transformations. 

Daphne heard the distinctive _whomp whomp_ of helicopter blades and looked up, seeing a military helicopter flying towards her. She ran to the side of the building, filled with renewed strength, sending out a plume of blue from her hand. The copter saw her and started to bank towards her. And before she could even react, the helicopter was hit by a missile, exploding into a ball of fire. 

She backed up in horror, slapping a hand over her mouth. She didn't have any time to process what had happened as the roof started to cave in, Megatron bursting through. Daphne let out a scream, scrambling back to the edge of the building. Despite her powers, she could not survive a three-story drop onto the cold concrete below her. Her frantic eyes landed on the statues, perched precariously on the edge of the roof of a few feet in front of her. 

"My Allspark," Megatron purred behind her, and Daphne knew she had to act fast

She swings herself onto the ledge as the roof completely caved in, scooting on her ass. She reaches the statute, wrapping her legs around the base and carefully pulling herself up, balancing on her toes, and holding on to the statute for dear life. For a moment, Daphne was at peace with the realization that she was going to die. Despite her crusade to be normal that hung over her like a death sentence for the past year and a half, she was going to die in the least normal circumstances: either breaking apart on the ground below her, squished in metal hands, or a mixture of the two. Daphne was flexible when it came to how she was going to meet her demise. 

"Is it fear or courage that compels you, fleshling?" Megatron asks. Daphne lifts her eyes from the white marble of the angel statue ( _If only Angel was here_ , she thought to herself) and meets the red optics of the former Lord Protector (how does she know this? Daphne is unsure, she can't read the Cybertronians' minds, _panic on the streets of Mission City_ ). His body is all jagged edges, so unlike the aesthetically pleasing forms of the Autobots. His optics are sane and he looks at her curiously, his rage gone for a second. "You are most fascinating, albeit fleshy. I've never seen an energy reading like yours before. Give me the Allspark and you may live to my pet."

She scoffs, static cracking in her blue hair. In the peace she's found in regards to her upcoming demise, the cockiness was back like it had never left a year and a half ago. "Pet?" she snarled, the Cube carefully held under one arm, the other lifted up, her fingers point in a gun at Megatron. This may be suicidal, but she'd like to go out with a bang. "I'd rather die," she answers, cocking her fingers, a bolt of energy flying at the Decepticon. 

It hits him, and Megatron stumbles, his chest smoking. His red optics find her blue eyes again and now they're filled with rage. "That was foolish, fleshing! Prepare to _die_ ," and shoots the base of the statute.

And Daphne is falling, falling, falling, and she realizes she's actually very not okay with dying, and-

She hits something hard. The wind is knocked out of her, but her grip on the Cube remains strong. She looks up to see who saved her and sees the most regal Cybetronian, no scratch that, person, entity she has ever seen. His calm blue eyes meet hers, focusing and focusing. "I've got you, girl," he says, and she knows this, this is _Optimus Prime._ He slides down the building, his grip as tight on her as her own on the Cube, but Megatron shoots down at them, and he falls the rest of the way down. 

He hits hard, she can tell from the grunt he makes, but rolls so he is crouched protectively over her and she is sitting on the ground. She is still high off of the adrenaline of almost meeting death and taunting an intergalactic war criminal, but Optimus' deep voice brings her back. "Daphne Winters," he rumbles, and his eyes meet hers again. "You've risked your life to protect the Cube, yet you do not know us, know our fight, know the power you hold in your human hands," he pokes gently at the Cube she is still holding. "Why?"

She swallows, her mouth dry. She suddenly sees herself reflected on the windshield over his chest. She doesn't look like the self she had gotten to know over the past year and a half, not like the normal, college girl she tried so hard to be. She looks like _Celestial_ again, with her unruly blue curls in a halo around her, the dark blue of her eyes overshadowed by the ring of wispy white blue surrounding her pupil. The same color surrounds her body, her armor, the magic turned solid like the scales of a dragon, protecting her, empowering her. And the Cube. The Cube that she is still holding, still pulsing energy through, the same white blue as her magic, curling around her fingertips. 

She wonders when she became Celestial again. 

( _Panic on the streets of Mission City_.)

"Because it's my job," Daphne answers, giving him a smile. "And a brave man once told me that X-Men, Autobots, humans, don't give up. They stand up."

Optimus returns the smile and lays one of his servos gently on her back. "And if I cannot do my job, if I cannot defeat Megatron, Daphne you must ignite the Allspark with my spark," with his other servo, he pulls apart his chest. "And destroy it. That is the only way Earth will be saved if I fail. Do you understand?"

She starts to shake her head, but sighs in defeat. She nods and Optimus stands up as Megatron crashes to the ground. The Autobot leader pushes her towards the safety of the alley, standing before her protectively. 

"It's you and me, Megatron," Optimus says, moving towards the Decepticon. 

Megatron lets out a cold laugh, his optics red and beady. "No, it's just me, Prime." Daphne inches closer to the alley, trying to gather as much energy as her mutation could convert into magic in case the good guys start to lose. 

"At the end of this day, one shall stand, one shall." And with that, Optimus fires the first bullet. 

The battle is a haze, a haze of explosions and fire and concrete flying. Optimus is thrown and lands near her alley, where she sits her barrier raised around her protectively. "Optimus!" she cries, her barrier flickering away as she runs to the Prime's side. 

"Daphne," he says, scooping her up and bringing her close to his chest. "It is time." His chest opens up, and his spark chamber appears and she knows what he is asking her to do. And she knows she met him minutes before, but she can't kill him. 

"I-I can't," she breathes. And she hears Megatron behind them.

"Daphne, you must, Megatron is right there-" With a cry, the mutant whips around and meets the Decepticon leader with the Allspark. "Daphne, no!"

( _Panic on the streets of Mission City_.)

And Megatron's face splits into a facsimile of a smile until Daphne thrusts the Cube into his chest. 

And what she feels is infinite. The power is pouring out of the Cube and into Megatron, pouring into her. It licks up her arms, her armor falling off into hardened chunks around her. Her hands a burning, the engravings on the Cube biting into the fleshy skin of her palm. Yet, she remains steadfast. She feels like she's on fire. She feels like she's eaten a star. She feels like she is a star. She feels power. 

The whole world turns blue as Optimus watches the girl standing on his chest, holding the Cube, or what will remain of the Cube, as it kills his brother. She is enveloped in the blue, the blue of the Cube, and the blue of her own magic. The blue is leaping off of her skin, illuminating her from the inside out. 

( _Panic on the streets of Mission City_.)

And she is infinite. 

( _Panic on the streets of Mission City_.)

And then she flickers. 

( _Panic on the streets of Mission City_.)

And like a candle being blown, Celestial's light falls. 

( _Panic on the streets of Mission City_.)

And like a puppet with its strings cut, Daphne Winters falls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Thanks for reading the first chapter of "please, please, please let me get what i want, this time." I know it's a lengthy title, so feel free to shorten it to please or please x3. As the summary mentioned, this is my quarantine project, something to get my mind off of the horror of reality. I hope you enjoyed it and I'm looking forward to sharing the rest of Daphne's story with you. If you a specific Transformers, X-Men or West Wing character you'd like to show up, please let me know :)
> 
> Also!! I have a “metatheme” for this story. It’s obvious if you’re a nerd like me, but if you catch it, comment it!


	2. nineteen, tired, and blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl wakes up tired and blue.

Daphne woke up in a cold room and the steady thrum of electronics. She blinked slowly, her eyes going in and out of focus as she looked up at the ceiling, noticing the cracks and imperfections. She didn't really know where she was but had the feeling she was safe. The room was quiet except for the beeping of a heart monitor. Her eyes moved to her chest. Oh. It was her heart monitor. 

"Good, you're awake." Daphne looked to the side and saw... Professor Charles Xavier and a man standing behind him. But, she paid no attention to the other man, her attention solely on the Professor. 

"Professor?" she questioned, rubbing at her eyes in confusion. Her mentor gave her a soft smile and wheeled himself closer to her bed.

"The doctor mentioned you may experience some disorientation and confusion when you woke up," he answered softly, his eyes kind. "Would you like some water?"

She nodded, and the Professor moved to pour her a glass. Her memories came back to as she slowly sat up in the hospital bed, her vision spinning. "Woah," she breathed, clutching the cool metal of the hospital bed. "Holy shit, I killed an alien."

Charles chuckled, giving her the glass of water. Daphne drank it greedily, her mouth dry and tasting of dust and the slight metallic hint of blood. She suddenly frowned, noticing her hands and lower arm were wrapped in bandages and raised an eyebrow. "Ah yes," Charles noted, as if he hadn't been expecting her to notice. "You suffered some minor burns from handling the Allspark, but Optimus assured me that is not unusual among his own kind and should be temporary. It must be said that both he and I are quite proud of you," he added kindly and she smiled at the older mutant.

But, Daphne couldn't ignore the way the Professor talked of Optimus as if the Autobot was in the room. Her gaze slid to the other man standing to the side, casually leaning against the window. "Optimus?" she guessed. She wasn't at all fazed or confused at the idea the Autobots could _also_ transform into humans. It only seemed logical in the mess of illogical events she had gotten herself into.

He chuckled, nodding and walked toward her hospital bed, sitting in a chair next to the Professor. Optimus looked to be in his late thirties to early forties and of Hispanic descent, his hair jet black and slightly graying at the temples. His eyes were a glowing blue and he held himself in the same, regal way he held himself in his robot form. "You would be correct," Optimus answered. "And Charles is right as well. The burns are only temporary and will leave no scarring once they are healed."

Daphne nodded slowly. "And Megatron is dead, right?" she asked cautiously. 

"Yes," Optimus said solemnly. "I owe you a great debt, Daphne. Not only did you save your own planet, but you said the galaxy from the destructive nature of Megatron. And you saved my life."

"But I destroyed the Allspark," she protested. "I destroyed the one chance you had of saving your species."

The Autobot leader started, the confusion clear on his face on how she knew that, before remembering she was a telepath and learned it from Sam and Captain Lennox. "This is true," he replied. "But if you had not pushed the Allspark into Megatron's chest and destroyed, he would have continued to raze your cities until he found it. Daphne," he said, placing a surprisingly warm hand atop of hers. "you have done the Autobots and I a great service. I will never forget your brave deeds for as long as I live, and you will have the protection and respect of the Autobots."

Daphne blushed, looking away from his bright blue eyes. "T-thank you," she stuttered, playing with a loose string on her blanket. "But you shouldn't thank me. You should thank the Professor for teaching me all of this."

Charles chuckled warmly. "This is true, but a student can only be taught if they are willing to learn," he pointed out. "And you have always been one of my brightest students, Daphne." She could hear the undertones to what he said, the remorse expressed over her decision to try and be "normal," to leave her mutant past behind, and the slight frustration over her rejecting her years of training. _Well, I guess he got what he wanted,_ she thought ruefully to herself. _I can never go back to normal after this._

"Is everyone okay?" Daphne asked suddenly, changing the subject. "Like Bumblebee? And Mikaela and Sam? Oh, and Lennox and Epps and-"

"Yes, dear one," Optimus interrupted, and she blinked at the sudden endearment. "There were no casualties for either side. Sam and Mikaela are in Sector Seven custody, along with Captain Will Lennox and Robert Epps. They told me to pass on wishes of health and swift recovery. Although, Jazz narrowly missed an injury to the sparkchamber and Ratchet is almost complete with the repairs to Bumblebee's legs. And you seem to be the most serious injury among our human allies, being in the hospital for three days."

"Three days?" Daphne blanched, her head starting to spin. "My grandmother is probably worried sick, my parents too, and classes started up Monday! And that doesn't even begin to answer the question of why I've been in the hospital for three days when my only visible injury is this!" She held up both arms and wiggled them in front of both men. Daphne could only think of the voicemails her _nai nai_ had left for her on her phone in angry Mandarin, and the equally angry, worried, and scolding text messages she'd get from her mom, also in Mandarin. And then from her dad... pictures of her dogs, with the caption, "how are you?".

Charles suppressed a smile. "Both your grandmother and your parents have been informed of the situation, as has your school."

"What's the cover story?" Daphne asked. "Cause they clearly can't be going around telling people there was an alien attack."

"Ah yes," Optimus chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I believe the story is 'terrorists who got their hands on highly advanced robotic weaponry.'"

"Trust the US government to come up with a convincing story," Charles added dryly. "As for your injuries, they are more mental than physical, which is why doctors from Sector Seven called me in. The energy both the Allspark, and to a lesser extent, Cybetronians, give off are strangely similar to your own magic. It seems when you pushed the Allspark into Megatron's chest, you absorbed the excess energy and it overwhelmed your system."

"Oh," she replied. Daphne suddenly remembered those last few moments when held the Cube, the Allspark, when she felt like she was touching something immense and bigger than the universe, when she felt her magic swell all around her, but it wasn't quite her magic anymore, when she felt her magic reach a crescendo, and then crack and disappear. "I think I remember what you're talking about."

Both men seem to freeze, Optimus' form flickering in the wind and Charles' eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean, Daphne?" the Professor asked, steepling his fingers and resting his head upon them. 

"Well," she started, flexing her fingers and see her blue appear reassuringly around them. "When I pushed the Cube, the Allspark, into Megatron's chest, I could feel the energy it gave off, like you said, Professor. And after a while, I could feel its energy within my own, and then nothing."

Charles nodded, leaning back in his seat. "Your mutation automatically tries to consume any energy it comes into contact with, and it seems there was too much energy for it to consume. I don't believe you'll have any negative side effects, and you may see a slight increase in power, beyond your Omega status."

"Cool," Daphne grinned. For the first time in two years, she felt at peace with her mutation, with the fact that she wasn't normal. Maybe it was because she wasn't with the X-Men anymore, didn't have to face an example of her failure every morning. Maybe it was because she had done some good with her mutation and people were saved because of it. 

"But, you'll have to stay for the next couple of days, up to a week, so I can monitor your health," Charles said, and she nodded.

"And I can monitor your physical safety," Optimus added. "Now that you have killed Megatron, Decepticons will be out for your head. You will be assigned a Guardian, for both your safety and for the safety of Autobot intelligence. And as I do not have any men to spar at the moment, you must stay here until you are assigned a Guardian. The next group of Autobots will make landfall hopefully in a week."

Daphne sank bank into her pillows, trying to comprehend the information. "So you're basically assigning me a babysitter? Optimus, I don't know if you saw me, but I can handle myself. I don't _need_ a babysitter."

"You're out of practice, Daphne," Charles said, and she shrank slightly under his knowing gaze. 

"What the Professor said is true," Optimus acknowledged, meeting her blue eyes with his alien blue ones. "You could perhaps handle yourself against one Decepticon, but surely not two or more. I am assigning you a Guardian for _your_ safety, Daphne. In the short time we have known you, you have become precious to the Autobots."

Daphne felt herself blushing again and sighed. "Fine," she said. "I'll have a 'Guardian.' But I better be able to go back to school."

"Of course," Optimus chuckled and the Professor smiled at her. 

She yawned and suddenly felt exhausted, despite being unconscious for the last three days. She felt so small, hit with the sudden enormity of her situation, and only being nineteen and tired and blue. She slumped against her bed, her limbs feeling like jelly. Reading both her mind and her body language, Charles could see the exhaustion setting in. He hit a button, and her bed changed from its upright position into a horizontal one. Her eyes closed and she could feel herself slipping under the warm waves of sleep. "Sleep now, Daphne," he said, his voice a comfort of years past. "We'll talk more later."

~~~

Optimus gazed down at the sleeping femme, her chest moving slightly up and down, a slight blue glow around her. His sensors told him that she was already in deep sleep, her brain waves slow, her blood pressure low and breaths rhythmic. Xavier was hunched over her, his fingertips resting on either side of her head. The older mutant had been this way for the past thirty minutes, using his telepathy to suppress some of Daphne's acquired abilities after her encounter with the Allspark. 

The Prime still felt uneasy about what Xavier, no, _they_ were doing, he was just as complicit as Xavier in what they were doing. After Daphne had destroyed both Megatron and Allspark, something his processors still had a problem understanding, she had been teeming with the Allspark energy. Her body was too hot for the human soldiers to touch and too dangerous, as blue lightning flickered off her body every few minutes, zapping anything organic. Ratchet had cradled the young mutant in his arms, and after hundreds of scans, his old friend concluded that this young, fragile human now possessed the last remnants of the Allspark. After Xavier had been called in by Sector Seven doctors, he and Ratchet concluded that while Daphne possessed none of the knowledge nor the creative attributes of the Allspark, its energy had integrated itself into the femme's magic, giving her a fraction of its power. Daphne Winters now held more power in her small body than Optimus or his fallen brother. In full control of her magic, she could face any foe and come out of it a victor.

"It is done," Xavier said, breaking the silence. The mutant looked tired, his face drawn and pale. "Most of the power she has gained is inaccessible to her at this time."

After learning of Daphne's new power, Xavier told the Autobots she must not know of her new powers, nor should she be able to access them. _It would destroy her,_ Xavier had said. _Both literally and figuratively._ So, the telepath proposed he set up a series of blocks in the femme's mind, _like a damn,_ he had explained, and slowly integrate the Allspark's power into her own over time. 

"And this is necessary? For her safety?" Optimus asked, even though he already knew the answer. He still felt what they were doing was wrong, that they were denying Daphne something that was rightfully hers. _Freedom is the right of all sentient beings,_ his own statement rang in his helm. 

"Yes," he replied gravely and sighed. "I take no pleasure in what I'm doing, but it is for both her safety and those around her. Daphne is one of my brightest students, with Omega level, class eight, class one of she had the combined power of the Allspark, but her control over her power has a checkered power. And I don't blame her, her power is one the most difficult to control, I blame myself. But if we integrate this new power over time, she'll have practice controlling it."

"I understand, Xavier, and I will take full responsibility for the consequences of our actions here today," Optimus stated and sighed, leaning back in his chair. 

The older mutant gave him a tight smile. "What we're doing is right," he said softly. "It will protect Daphne from herself and the American government. She's already targeted as it is, because of her Omega status. But, if the feds knew the power she held, she would be taken immediately, either used as a weapon or by ordered by a court to permanently wear an inhibitor collar. Now, she'll only appear to go up a class in power, from an eight to seven, still on the Omega level. "

Optimus frowned, his eyes dimming as he searched the internet for what Xavier had said. And he was aghast at what he saw- the Mutant Registration Act, the prisons full of mutants, dead mutant children in the streets. "Your people are treated no better than weapons," the Autobot replied in disgust. 

"And I have worked all my life to protect them," Xavier seemed to age a decade, his shoulders hunched in defeat. "And I will do what I can to protect this mutant right here."

Optimus was still reeling from the way his host country have treated, and are still treating Xavier's people, and sent a data file on mutant-human relations to his team. He heard various noises of disgust and disbelief from his Autobots, and promised to hold a meeting once he was done with Xavier and Daphne. "You have my word, Charles, that we will do what we can to protect Daphne, yourself, and the mutants in this country and around the globe." 

Xavier gave him a sad smile. "I hope you'll do a better job than what I've done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazz is alive! Yay! And a quick note on Omega mutants and classes. According to X-Men cannon, an Omega mutant is "a mutant whose dominant power is deemed to register an undefinable upper limit of that power's specific classification." So, Daphne is an Omega level mutant, as her powers over electro-magnetism cannot be surpassed by current human technology nor other mutants (she could, theoretically, become a human nuke), but she is less powerful when compared to other Omega mutants, hence being class eight. With the power of the Allspark, she surpasses her natural abilities and becomes a class one. The levels go from Omega to Alpha, Beta, and the Episllion, each with classes from ten to one, ten being least powerful, one being the most powerful. This system was made up by the government after the Mutant Registration Act passed, in order to classify which mutants needed to be the most regulated, and which are the most dangerous.


	3. heaven knows i'm nervous now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl meets the people in charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick continuity note- this takes place in almost present day, around October, 2020. I wanted to make it modern cause I just really hate early 2000's fashion. Jed Bartlet was elected President in 2018, inaugurated in January 2019. Strange enough, the president before him was a man with a bad spray tan who hated minorities. Can you guess who it may possibly be??

The next morning, the Professor decided Daphne was well enough to go visit the base under the Hoover Dam. The hospital she was staying at was about forty minutes away from the base. Granted, it was half destroyed by Megatron literally ripping through four layers of concrete, but it was the only large enough and secure enough location for the Autobots to hide. She had cheered when Charles had told her the news, anxious to get moving. 

"You'll be happy to hear that President Bartlet, his senior staff, and some higher-ups from the Pentagon and the Department of Defense will be visiting," he added, sounding as if he had almost forgotten. 

Daphne blanched. Being a political science major with hopes to go into law and politics, along with being pretty liberal and a yellow dog Democrat since she was able to vote, she had dreamed of meeting the President and his staff since he started campaigning. She had knocked on doors, donated, and attended two campaign rallies. Bartlet had been the only candidate the presidential primary, in both parties, to outright say he opposed the Mutant Registration Act. After being sworn in a year and a half ago, his administration had made important strides towards repealing the MRA. 

"You mean I'm meeting the President?" she squawked, her eyes going wide. "Looking like this?" she gestured to her rather disheveled state. After catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she was horrified by her appearance she normally took pride in. Her normally artistically unruly mess of short blue curls (think of Edward in the Twilight movies, with his purposefully disheveled hair,) was sticking straight up in the back and she had so much dirt on her face it looked like she had freckles. Her almond-shaped eyes looked tired, with days old mascara smeared on her lower lashline, and badly in need of a cold compress. Strangest of all, the whiteish-blue circle that appeared around her pupils when she used her powers remained, making her look like one of the aliens in the movie _The Host._

The Professor suppressed a chuckle. "Ah, yes, that is why I'm telling you two hours before we must be there," he replied. "And before you even ask about clothes," he added, his handy dandy telepathy telling him the next question she was going to ask. "Some administrators from Sector Seven are bringing over some appropriate outfits to choose from. They'll be here once you're out of the shower."

As soon as Charles finished, Daphne bolted to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. "Oh, Daphne, be careful around your burns! You can take off the wrappings and a nurse will come and dress them once you're done," he called through the door. 

"I will!" she yelled through the door, turning the water on as hot as she could. She gingerly unpeeled the white gauze around her forearms, preparing herself a rather gruesome sight. Instead, she found what looked like silvery strands of lightning, starting as a starburst in her palms and curling around her wrists. "That's kinda badass," she murmured to herself, running a finger along the raised lines. She instantly recoiled, the light touch sending burning pain up her arm. 

"Motherfucker," she swore, gently taking off her hospital gown and holding her arms out in front of her. She carefully stepped in the shower, half afraid the water would cause her to seize in pain. Instead, the hot water relaxed her whole body, her shoulders dropping and her eyes fluttered shut. The water felt good on her burns but felt less good when she got the shitty hospital soap on them. 

After washing her hair and body to the best of her abilities, Daphne hopped out the shower, wrapping herself up in a towel. She rubbed some of the condensations off of the mirror, happy to see she looked more alive than she had a few minutes ago. She poked her head out of the bathroom, happy to see that the Professor wasn't in the room and there was a pile of neatly folded clothes on her hospital bed. She grabbed both the pile and her phone, deciding to call her grandmother while she got ready. She had talked to her parents the day before, but she had yet to call her grandmother. 

" _Hi, nai nai,"_ she greeted in Chinese when her grandmother picked up immediately, wincing slightly as she brushed through her hair. 

" _Oh, my a lan, you had us all so worried,"_ her grandmother said, and Daphne could hear the distress in her voice. Her grandmother Li You Yang had immigrated to the United States with her family right before the Communist Party had seized control of China in 1947. She was a fierce woman who loved her family, but had a temper that could rival Gordon Ramsey's if you pushed her too hard.

" _I know,"_ she sighed. She didn't want to lie to her grandmother, but it was for her own safety. Besides, her grandmother had already had a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact her granddaughter was a powerful mutant, and didn't need another thing to worry about. " _But, I did what I had to do to keep people safe._ "

" _And I am so proud of you for doing that,"_ the older woman said. " _And I hope that means you'll reconsider training with Mr. Xavier. You know what happened in Seattle wasn't your fault._ "

" _Maybe,"_ Daphne replied quickly, changing the subject. She continued to talk with her grandmother as she got ready to meet the President. A nurse had come in to redress her burns, and she avoided eye contact, holding on to her towel tightly. There were three different options to choose from, and she chose a black skirt suit, paired with white pumps and a blue shirt that matched her hair. She used a hairbrush and the subpar hospital blowdryer to dry her hair smooth, patting down her straight across bangs. Even though she didn't have any access to the makeup she usually put on when she was trying to impress, Daphne still thought she looked pretty okay for being unconscious for the past few days.

After saying goodbye to her grandmother, she took one last look at herself before she went to meet the Professor. The suit hugged her curves without being too flirty, the hem of the skirt hitting an inch above her knee, the white pumps adding about an inch to her 5'5 height. Only the gauze on her hands was visible and she didn't have any other noticeable bumps and bruises. With her hair straight, it fell an inch above her shoulders, her bangs curling slightly below her eyebrows. Her hair was more turquoise than blue, with lighter strands mixed in from the California sun. While she got all the old mascara off of her face, it was still slightly unnerving to see the omnipresent ring around her pupil. 

Overall, Daphne deemed herself ready to meet the President. 

~~~ 

Jed Bartlet had seen some strange things in his life. Growing up in New Hampshire, he swore he saw a UFO in the night sky one warm summer evening. In prep school, he had seen one of his classmates sprout wings right in front of. And, strangest of all, he saw himself elected President of the United States. But learning a race of giant, alien robots had landed on Earth and then proceeded to destroy one of the West's greatest cities might have topped being inaugurated. 

"Charlie!" he called from his private office on Airforce One. The Secret Service had been hesitant to allow him on board again after several agents were killed and the military database had been hacked, presumably one of these Decepticons he had been told about. But, after an agent from Sector Seven, an agency Jed had never heard of until a few days ago, had swept the plane and had assured them there was no trace of the alien. 

"Sir?" Charlie said, poking his head into the office. 

Jed rubbed at his eyes, taking his glasses off and closing the file in front of him. "Could you call the senior staff in? And bring the files on the folks involved in Mission City?"

"Yes, sir," Charlie replied, and he thanked him as his aide shut the door. 

A few minutes later, his senior staff came in, each murmuring a greeting and sitting down. CJ, his Press Secretary remained standing, and Jed knew she still felt uneasy about lying to the press about the current situation. The cover story was an act of terrorism by foreign individuals in custody. While the cover story was a version of the truth, she still felt uneasy. Leo, his Chief of Staff, pulled out the chair in front of his desk, handing him the personnel files. 

"Josh?" he called to his Assistant Chief of Staff, pulling on his glasses and rifling through the files. 

"Yes, sir?" the younger man asked, unbuttoning his jacket and lounging on the couch. 

"Did you know that these Autobots come from a metal planet called Cybertron?" Jed asked in reply, still looking through the files. "According to Sector Seven, they live for hundreds of thousands of years, and their war has been going on longer than Christianity?"

"I did sir," Josh said, yawning slightly. 

"The S7 agents were quite thorough in their briefing," Toby, his Communications Director, added rather sullenly. 

"Toby nearly exploded when the agents kept repeating what we had read in the files," Sam said, poking fun of his boss. 

Toby rolled his eyes, flicking Sam lightly on the arm. "Mr. President, if you had been there I'm sure you would have been just as annoyed. Does the military honestly believe we can't read?" he asked, throwing up his hands. 

"C'mon, Toby, it wasn't _that_ bad," CJ interjected. 

"Stop your squabbling, the President called you here for a reason," Leo added and there were a few mumbled apologies from Jed's childish, but incredibly competent staff. 

"Thank you, Leo," Jed replied, closing the file. "Now, what can you tell me about the combatants that were involved in Mission City?"

His staff exchanged glances. Toby leaned forward in his charge, holding rolled-up paper in between his legs. "Sir," he said slowly. "You did listen to the S7 briefing?" he looked over at Sam and Leo in confirmation. 

"Of course I did," Jed scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "Did you honestly believe I didn't listen to a single word those S7 agents said?" he asked, looking down his nose at them. 

"Well, sir," Leo replied, a good-natured smile on his face, Josh and Sam chuckling. 

"Well, I did," he said. "And I agree with you Toby that their briefing may have gone a little too long." The man in question threw his hands up triumphantly, causing CJ to roll her eyes. "Now, the combatants I wanna hear about are not the Autobots or the Decepticons. I've heard the name 'Optimus Prime' more than my own the past few days. The combatants I wanna hear about are the American soldiers and civilians involved. I want to put names and faces to the brave acts these men and women committed before I meet them."

"Of course, Mr. President," CJ, stepping forward, opening a file. "Leo, could you show the President where the American combatants' biographies are located in the file on his desk?" His Chief of Staff did just that, rooting through the hundreds of pages to find the bios. "The operation was commanded by Captain William 'Will' Lennox, whose squadron was the lone survivors of the attack on the SOCCENT base in Qatar. He joined the military at 19, is 26 years old and has a wife and a newborn daughter back home in Nevada. Along with Sergeant Robert Epps, Captain Lennox was instrumental in the defeat of the Decepticons. Sergeant Epps..."

CJ went through the names and brief biographies of every soldier he was to meet the day, with Leo handing him the personnel file that went along with the names. When it came time for the civilians, his ears perked up. He was still astounded that three teenagers had gotten themselves mixed up in an intergalactic civil war, had helped to defeat the enemy, and survived the experience. 

"And on to the civilians," Josh said, taking over for the CJ. "The first person is nineteen-year-old Daphne Winters." Jed looked down at the picture in front of him. Daphne was a smiling portrait of youth in her UC Berkely id, looking to be of Asian descent, with shocking bright blue hair and eyes to match. "Daphne is an Omega level, class 8 mutant-"

"Wait, mutant?" Jed interjected. "Why did none of you tell me there was a mutant involved?"

Josh shifted in his seat, avoiding eye contact. "Sir, none of us knew until a few hours ago. Apparently, there were some higherups in S7 with a bone to pick with mutants and wanted to erase her from the narrative. But it was actually Prime that pushed for her to get recognized."

"Hmm," Jed hummed thoughtfully, making a mental note to go over S7 leadership with Leo and Secretary Keller later. "Continue."

"Daphne graduated from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in the spring of 2018 and started school at UC Berkely. Per the FEC's database, she was actually a grassroots donor for our campaign and did some canvassing." Jed made a noise of surprise and Leo chuckled. Maybe he would have to offer this girl a position at the White House for her bravery. "The poli sci department at Berkley loves her and a couple of law schools are actively pursuing her for when she graduates this spring two years early. Now onto Mission City. Daphne was fundamental in defeating Megatron, according to reports from both our own military and the Autobots. She ran with the Allspark for three-quarters of a mile to reach the rendevous point, and when that failed, she killed Megatron with the Allspark."

"When I was nineteen, I was getting drunk in a frat's basement on weekends," Sam quipped and Jed let out a chuckle. 

"Did she sustain any serious injuries? I still can't believe a girl, albeit a mutant, killed that giant robot when our own weapons failed," Jed mused. 

"She was unconscious for three days but woke up yesterday. According to reports, she's mostly fine, and sustained some minor burns," Josh replied. 

Jed leaned back in his chair. For some reason, he was more excited to meet Daphne Winters than a race of giant, sentient, robots. 

~~~

"Daphne!" Mikaela called, the younger girl running up to her and giving her a hug. Daphne returned the hug, happy to see her new friend safe. "Sam and I were so worried when they told us you were in the hospital," she added, releasing her. The brunette was wearing a yellow dress paired with a black sweater and a pair of knee-high boots. Sam waved, looking considerably more put together in a pair of khakis and a button-down. 

Daphne shrugged, adjusting her blazer so it covered most of the bandages. "I'm pretty okay now. I get a little bit dizzy at times and my magic flares up randomly, but other than that, I'm alright. What about you guys? And Bumblebee?"

As if on cue, the yellow Camaro entered into the large hangar under the Hoover Dam, his fellow Autobots behind him and transformed. She was happy to see that Bumblebee had his legs back and he made a happy chirping noise to them from across the room. "We're okay," Sam said, watching the Scout walk over to them. "We got to drive Bumblebee around in the tow truck and have him shoot at the Decepticons. It was pretty cool, right bud?"

"Affirmative," Bumblebee replied, and Daphne gasped in shock at hearing him talk in his real voice. 

"Ratchet repaired your voice box!" she exclaimed, patting him on the knee. "Congrats, Bee."

His blue optics flashed warmly at her and he gently ruffled her hair. "Thank you, Daphne. And thank you for protecting my charges when I couldn't," he looked down at the two teens with such love and loyalty it made her smile. 

"It was nothing," she said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "That's what X-Men do."

"Wait, you're part of the X-Men?" Sam asked in nerd joy and she internally groaned. _Great, an X-Men fanboy,_ she thought to herself. "Did you meet Wolverine? What's the X-Mansion like? Do you have a-"

"Bee, didn't you say Optimus wanted to see Daphne?" Mikaela cut in and the mutant sent her a grateful smile. 

"Oh yes!" Bee said in, his optics widening. "Optimus wants to see you before the President gets here. You can walk over."

"Thanks, Bee," she replied, saying her goodbyes to the trio and walking over to where the four over Autobots were standing. She spotted Lennox and Epps and waved at them, the later shouting he wanted to hear how she killed the "giant robot Hitler." Rolling her eyes, she gave him a thumbs up and stopped when she was in front of Optimus. 

The Prime smiled at her. "Greetings, Daphne," he murmured. 

"Hey, Optimus," she said rather shyly, becoming intimidated in the presence of the four metal giants. 

"No hello for me, sweetspark?" Jazz pouted, breaking the tension. His visor flashed her wink and set a hand on his hip.

She let out a laugh, grinning up at the silver Autobot. "Hi, Jazz," she teased. "And hi Ratchet, Ironhide."

Ironhide merely grunted and Ratchet rolled his eyes, elbowing the weapons' specialist. "Hello, Daphne," the medic replied, his optics flashing as he scanned her. She shivered, feeling her magic flare-up in response. Ratchet raised an eyebrow, his optics trained on the slight blue that crackled around her. "Well, that's interesting. It gives me more of a reason to thoroughly scan you after this, okay? I want to see if the Allspark has changed your mutation in any way." Daphne nodded in affirmation and he seemed relieved. 

"Daphne," Optimus rumbled, and she turned to face the Autobot leader. He bent down on one knee, and he offered her hand. His intention was clear, and she hesitated for a moment before stepping onto the offered hand and he brought her up to eye level. "I wish for you to accompany Jazz and I in the meeting with your leaders and advise us."

She gaped at him. "Me?" she asked, pointing at herself. " _Me?_ " she repeated, her voice growing shrill. "Well, I, I'm, I'm just a college student!" she got it, her eyes wide. Daphne had never guessed in her wildest dreams that she would get meet the President, albeit sit in on a meeting with the leader of an alien race and _advise_ the aforementioned leader. 

Optimus looked amused and Jazz let out a chuckle. "You are our only human ally is both an adult and does not belong to the United States military," he replied smoothly. 

"Also, I hacked into yah school's database and saw dat ya studied yah country's politics and laws and whatnot," Jazz said. "Ya wanna be a law-yer, right?" he asked, pronouncing lawyer wrong as if he never heard of it. 

"You hacked into my school," she replied weakly, her mind wheeling. 

"Imma take that as a yes," he chuckled. "Well, ya know more bout yah people's laws than any of us do, and we ain't tryna rely on yah government to tell us if it is a good treaty."

"But I'm not a real lawyer yet! I haven't even graduated yet," she protested. "I could ruin your whole treaty!"

"Peace, dear one," Optimus soothed, his blue optics calm. "We understand you are not a lawyer, yet. But we have faith in your knowledge and your telepathic abilities to alert us to any trickery from your government."

"I trust these humans as far as they could throw me," Ironhide muttered, huffing and crossing his arms. 

Daphne chuckled, before sitting down on Optimus' palm, feeling slightly dizzy. "Me and you both, Ironhide," she said, her voice slightly breathy as her head slowly stopped spinning. "My government has done horrible things to mutants, and we're American citizens. I couldn't imagine what they would do to you. Though," she frowned slightly. "President Bartlet is a pretty good guy. I'll come to make sure that no good fascist military doesn't try anything funny," she added. 

The Autobots' optics dimmed as they searched what she just said. Optimus rumbled as his optics flashed on. "Thank you, Daphne. We are eternally grateful," he paused, his optics flashing in question. "And I believe your President is here." Optimus set her gently onto the ground, taking a step back so he and the other Autobots were pressed to the wall. 

President Bartlet rolled in with heavily armed guards, surrounded by military leaders and his staff. If she stood on her tiptoes behind the field of S7 agents and army soldiers, she could see the top of Barlet's and his Chief of Staff's head, along with the smiling faces of Sam Seaborn, CJ Greg, and Josh Lyeman, and the stoic face of Toby Zeigler. Bartlet first greeted all the soldiers, then moved on to the S7 agents, and then to Sam and Mikaela. Sam was slightly hyperventilating and stuttering, but Mikaela had enough poise and composure for the both of them, the brunette smoothly introducing Sam and herself. Daphne could feel her palms sweating as Bartlet searched the crowd, seemingly looking for her, gesturing to his staff. 

She cursed her own anxiety and stepped forward, smoothing her hands on her black skirt. The President spotted her, his eyes going to her shock of blue hair. He moved towards her, followed closely by his staff and his Secret Service agents. One of his agents eyed her warily, his hand going to his hip. Stretching her mind out, she could feel his fear and suspicion of mutants and recoiled immediately, focusing on the President and the higherups. Most of them held an open mind towards the Autobots, a few had reservations, but the President was all in. 

Daphne felt herself relaxing as the President approached her, a broad smile on his face. "Ms. Daphne Winters," he greeted warmly, shaking her hand. "The woman of the hour."

She blushed, ducking her head slightly. "The honor is all mine, Mr. President. I voted for you," she blurted out and she felt herself blush even redder. 

Bartlet chuckled and the stoic Toby Zeigler smiled. "I thank you for your vote, Ms. Winters," he replied. "This here is my senior staff, Leo McGeary, Josh Lyeman, CJ Gregg, Toby Zeigler, and Sam Seaborn." His staff all murmured greetings, alternating between handshakes and head nods. She could see Josh and Sam staring at her face, and she fought the urge to duck her head again as she realized they were staring at her eyes, their thoughts loud. _It's like they never met a mutant before,_ she thought bitterly. "To my right is General John Keller, Secretary of Defense."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Winters," General Keller said, the last to shake her hand. 

"Please, call me Daphne," she said, giving them all a bright smile, avoiding eye contact with the two she caught staring. "And once again, the honor is all mine to be in the same room as the people who run to this country. I'm just a college kid studying poli sci who happened to be in the right place at the right time," she rambled. 

Bartlet shook his head. "Your bravery cannot be understated, Daphne. You did a great service to your country and to the world. The public cannot thank you, so we thank you now," he stated, and his eyes catching the gauze on her hands. "You were injured?"

She started, looking down at her hands and pulling slightly at her blazer to cover it. "Oh, yes. Just some minor burns, but the doctors think it'll be healed in a few days," she replied, wincing slightly as her thumb grazed her hand. 

Bartlet and his Chief of Staff, Leo, exchanged a glance. "Ms. Winters- Daphne," Leo corrected. "Is there anything the administration can do to help? Besides the damages check S7 will send, of course," he added. 

"Repeal the MRA," she said without a second thought. "Mr. President, if I may speak frankly, the MRA is a disgrace to this nation. It goes against the very values the Founding Fathers preached, the very values and rights fought for and won during the Civil Rights Movement, both in Congress and the Court. It dehumanizes mutants and turns us into, into weapons!" she exclaimed passionately, blue flashing for a second around her hands. "Every second the MRA remains law, it further strips mutants of their rights and delegitimizes the United States abroad as a nation that fights for freedom for _all_ people," she pauses, her mouth quirking up. "Oh, and maybe teaching the two youngest members of your staff it's not okay to stare at a mutant's physical mutation, especially if the mutant is a telepath."

Both men in question turn beet red and have the dignity to immediately apologize, but are cut off with a harsh glance from Leo. He turns back to her with a pleasant smile. "I know the President, the senior staff and Democrats in Congress are working hard to repeal the MRA. And I will _personally_ handle our two boys." Daphne flashes him a bright grin. 

"Now," the President coughs, setting his hands on his hips. "Daphne, can you introduce us to the Autobots?"

~~~

The meeting goes smoothly, for the most part. Bartlet had the control, for which she commends him for, to not gawk as Optimus knelt before him. Some of the military higher-ups staggered back in surprise at the sure size of the Autobots and Daphne had to suppress a smile. Both Josh and Sam seemed to stick by her, the older men trying to make up for their _faux pas_ and she felt charmed by their efforts. 

The President wasn't able to suppress his surprise when the Autobots initiated their holoforms. Optimus explained it would be awkward for the two parties to try to negotiate with one party looming over the other. Daphne takes note of the Autobots and their holoforms. Jazz looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties, a short, dark-skinned black man wearing a pair of wraparound sunglasses, well built on the shorter side. Ironhide is slightly shorter than Optimus with a permanent scowl on his face, his hair as white as snow with a scar above one eye. Ratchet appears to be a little younger than Ironhide in his late forties, an Asian man with salt and pepper hair and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. To her surprise, Bumblebee looks to be her age, a light-skinned black man with tight black curls and a scar across his throat. 

Only Optimus and Jazz accompany her, Bartlet, Leo, Josh, and the military higher-ups, the other three remaining to mingle with the remaining senior staff. They had discussed many things, including Bartlet extending amnesty to Optimus and him accepting, Bartlet approving the arrival of several more Autobots, including a few in a couple of days, and the terms of their military alliance, including the refusal of the Autobots to share weapons. Barlet also decided to get rid of S7 and appoint a new organization to work the Autobots- NEST. As the meeting comes to an end, Daphne only had to interrupt twice and is about to the third time. 

"Mr. President?" she speaks up, the President's eyes going to her from across the room. He had expressed surprise when Optimus had told him she was going to be part of the meeting as a legal consultant on behalf of the Autobots, but had gone along with it. 

"Yes, Daphne?" he said, the lawyer in the corner pausing in his typing. 

"Will the Autobots be offered any legal rights? Human rights?"

His brows furrowed. "I'm not sure I understand what you're saying..." he said, trailing off. 

"I'm asking if the Autobots will be afforded rights, such as due process, religion, establishment, speech, assembly, criminal defendant, equality under the law, etcetera," she replies primly, folding her hands on the table. She sits in between Optimus and Jazz and the later's face breaks into a wide smile. 

Everyone on the opposite side pauses. "You're telling me," Secretary Keller starts, leaning forward in his chair. "That you're asking that the Autobots be afforded rights such as _religion_ by the US government."

"Yes," she stated, ignoring the few snickers and refusing to allow her face to turn pink. "The Autobots are sentient beings and must be treated as so. Think of them as refugees. Refugees are afforded rights in this country and they should as well."

Bartlet exchanges a glance with Leo, who nods, and cocks his head at Keller. "All right," Keller sighs. "We'll put that in the treaty. Anything else to add?"

"I do," Optimus replies, resting his hands on the table. "You have appointed your own liaison, and we will appoint our own. Once Smokescreen, our head of communications, makes planetfall, he will be appointed as our liaison. I wish to appoint Daphne Winters as our human ambassador, as soon as she graduates from college."

Daphne's heart skips a beat and the room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. "Y-you," starts one of the generals. "Want this young girl who is a _mutant,"_ his lip curls as he says the word mutant and she flinches. "Who has no experience, to work with the United States government? I sure as hell don't think so."

"Shut it, Barnes," Bartlet snaps and the general ducks his head in apology. The President studies her for a few moments, his eyes calmly holding hers. In those few moments, Daphne knows that she wants this more than she's ever wanted anything in her life. "I'll allow it," he answers holding up a hand to stop the chorus of complaints. "If one of your own teaches her, she graduates undergrad and is accredited by one of our own, and is on a probationary period of two years. Deal?"

"Deal," Optimus replies. "My third in command, Jazz, will teach her and fulfill the duty as Autobot liaison until Smokescreen makes planetfall." Jazz nods and sends her a wink. 

"And you, Daphne," Bartlet says, turning his attention to her. "Do you want this?"

"Yes," she breathes, her mouth quirking up in a smile. "More than I've wanted anything in my life."


	4. ask me, i won't say no, i couldn't even if i tried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl meets her Guardians.

Ratchet examines his scans, his brows furrowing. Daphne swung her legs on the high berth, fascinated by the holographic display. After the meeting with the government and the startingly reality that she was going to be an _ambassador,_ Ratchet had requested she be moved from the hospital to the Hover base so he could run more tests and Optimus and Jazz wanted to debrief her before her Guardians arrived and she went back to Berkley. 

Saying goodbye to the Professor had been hard. Although she had left the Institute a year a half prior for college, she still missed the Professor deeply and secretly longed to go back to New York with him. As if sensing her longing, he had given her one last smile and a tight hug. " _Be strong, Daphne,_ " he had said and for a moment, Daphne thought that she could read his thoughts and see sadness in them too. " _Trust the Autobots and keep practicing with your powers. You have a long, exciting journey ahead of you, and I have the utmost confidence in you. But you must realize that you're not normal, and you've never been and you'll never be. You're a mutant, Celestial, and you must never forget that."_

It was now her second full day at the base, and she had spent much of it with Lennox and Epps, with Sam and Mikaela appearing occasionally. She got to know the two soldiers, Lennox, at 26 years old with a baby back home, and Epps being a few years older with a herd of children. They exchanged stories, the two soldiers telling her stories at their time in Qatar and Daphne telling them stories of her skirmishes with anti-mutant protestors, skirting the topic of any missions she had gone on with the X-Men, for fear of the memories it could bring up. 

Daphne was brought back to the present by a grunt. Peering at Ratchet, she saw him still looking at his scans, a frown appearing on his face. "What?" she asked, trying to make sense of the mess of color in front of her.

He turned the display around her so she could see the display. "These are readings of your brain activity, electromagnetic field-"

"Woah, wait," she said, holding up a bandaged hand. "You can get a reading on my powers?" For a second, she forgot that Ratchet was a friend, forgot he wasn't the US government, forgot he wasn't a human, forgot he wasn't a threat. For a second, she remembered the cold burn of the collar around her neck, remembered the laughter of them as the saw her power blink out on the display, remembering the scream that ripped out of her throat as she felt her power drain out of her fingertips. 

His cool blue optics land on her, placing a hand on the berth next to her. "Yes," he says slowly, and she goes pink in embarrassment as she realizes he could probably see the fear on her face. "We Cybetronians give off our own electromagnetism and we can sense each other's."

"Oh," she replies, her shoulders relaxing. "When I first saw you guys in Mission City, I could feel that there was something off about you. Do I register on your scans?"

"Yes, dear one," he says, turning the display back to him. All the Autobots seemed to adopt Optimus' pet name for you, except for Bumblebee, and she grudgingly accepted the use, while the rest of the base looked on in shock at its use. "You display as much of an electromagnetic field as a Cybetronian of Jazz' size, but you do not appear like any Cybertronian I've encountered. It is a puzzle that I am excited to tackle. I am certain one day you may be able to communicate with us on our electromagnetic frequencies."

"And what's the bad news?" she asks, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

"What?" he replies absently, his optics glued to the display. 

"You seemed upset when you looked at the scans. I'm not dying, right, Doc?" she jokes, raising an eyebrow. 

Ratchet pauses as if he hoped she had forgotten his reaction. "Ah, yes. You just display more leftover electromagnetic energy than we hope. Shall I take a look at your burns?" he asks, quickly changing the subject. 

Daphne sighs, but complies with his request. She realized early on after she watched on in horror after Ratchet had nailed Jazz in the head with a wrench that the Autobot medic was not to be messed with, and it was best to do what you were told. She's happy she decided to wear short sleeves today (her _nai nai_ had dropped off her suitcase before Daphne had left for the base permanently and she had never been happy to see use her own stuff) and slowly started to peel off her wrappings. 

Despite promises that burns would have disappeared in a few days, it became increasingly clear they were going to scar. Wincing as some of the gauze decided to get stuck in her burns, she gazed down at the lightning-shaped red marks the curled around her forearms like vines around a tree. 

"They look better than yesterday," he mused, leaning down to look at them better. He lightly touches her right arm and she grits her teeth against the sudden pain. He makes a noise, wrinkling his nose. The medic too seemed perplexed that the burns seemed to scar instead of heal and had admitted he was not an expert on the effects of exposure to the Allspark. He sprays medicine on her arms and she closes her eyes, tears forming in the corners. The pain was immense and she only found relief when he gently blew cool air on the burns. But, she had to admit, it hurt fractionally less than the day before.

"Ouch," she muttered sarcastically, keeping her eyes closed as he wrapped them. The burns were worse than any of the injuries she had gotten with the X-Men and thanked whatever god that decided to keep an eye on her that they weren't any worse. 

"My apologies," he replies, his voice equally dry. She cracks her eyes open and gives him a small smile. He finishes wrapping up her hands and gives her arm a gentle tap. She gives him a thumbs-up as she feels only a hint of the burning pain. He straightens as Optimus enters the room. "Optimus," he says smoothly. 

"Ratchet," the larger mech replies, inclining his head. "Daphne, how are the burns?"

"Eh," she says, experimentally flexing her fingers. "Better than yesterday, but still hurts like a bitch."

Both mechs chuckle and Ratchet steps back slightly so Optimus can kneel and look her in the eyes. "I know you are anxious to return to your normal life," Daphne cringes slightly, remembering the Professor's parting words. "And I thank you for your patience. But, I have good news. After I made an emergency distress call after our defeat of the Decepticons a week ago, two of our frontliners left the _Xantium_ from beyond Jupiter in their stasis modes and will make planetfall in a few hours. The rest of the crew will arrive in two months."

Daphne blinks, her magic crackling slightly around her hands. "A-and these are my Guardians?" she asks. "And how did they get here so fast?"

"They will be your Guardians, yes. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, two of the best warriors the Autobots have ever known."

Before Optimus could answer her second question, Ratchet snorts. "You can be serious, Optimus," he says, folding his arms. "Sideswipe and Sunstreaker? Those two get into more trouble than Younglings left attended. You really wanna leave those two knuckleheads in charge of Daphne, hours away from any Autobots, in a place where humans place their young when they're at their most hormonally volatile? Good luck," he spits and Daphne has to suppress a chuckle at his level of disapproval. 

Optimus lets out a sigh that reminds her of when the Professor would sigh after Wolverine would try to justify (slightly) terrorizing one of the freshmen when they would do something especially stupid. "Ratchet," he says patiently and she has to slap a hand over her mouth as she starts to giggle. "Your fears are noted, but the twins have proven both their loyalty and capability multiple times. Though, if you would like to ensure Daphne's safety, you are more than welcome to accompany Daphne back to 'college,'" he adds, a twinkle in his eye, and she can hear the quotation marks added. 

She lets out a peal of laughter but quickly controls her laughter after Ratchet sends her a _look_ , almost as terrifying as the one who mom gave her after she caught Daphne trying to sneak out one night to meet a boy with angel wings. "Fine," Ratchet concedes. "But I'll be giving them a _thorough_ medical exam, and I'll request that Ironhide tests their battle worthiness."

"Granted," Optimus nods. "And to answer your second question, Daphne, the _Xantium_ had some Energon to spare once and that gave the twins the extra boost they needed to get here so quickly. Now, are you ready to meet your Guardians?"

Her magic answers for her, in a flash of blue around her. 

~~~

Daphne rides with Sam and Mikaela in Bumblebee, a bouncing ball of excitement and nerves. They leave midday from Hoover Dam to Mt. Callaghan, a mountain in the middle of Nevada off of Highway 306, a trip that will take around seven hours. "More like five," Bumblebee promises, and she can hear the cockiness through his radio as they peel away. The rest of the Autobots come with them, along with Lennox, Epps and the rest of the Mission City soldiers, along with General Morshower, who stayed after the President left to continue talks of NEST. 

On the drive, the three take turns singing along to the radio, scrolling through their phones silently, and telling stories. Sam and Mikaela tell her stories of when they saw Optimus and the three Autobots make planetfall. "It was so cool," Sam says, his eyes bright. 

"Very cool," Mikaela agrees, and Daphne smiles at the two teens. 

"Daph, why do you get two Guardians? That doesn't seem fair- oh, sorry, Bee," he adds, as the Autobot lets out a buzz of annoyance and Sam pats the steering wheel. 

Daphne shrugs, popping a gummy bear in her mouth. "I have no fucking clue," she replies, shifting slightly in her seat. "I think it's cause I still give off Allspark energy, right Bee?"

"Affirmative," Bee says. "You'll also be the farthest away from everyone when everything goes back to normal and Optimus wants to make sure you're protected well."

In front of her, both teens deflate at Bee's words, and she can't tell if they're sad at the fact things are going back to normal or that she'll be far away. Bee senses the silence the lingers between the three and turns on the radio.

Normal. Daphne repeats the word, thinking about all the changes that have happened in a week that make it impossible for her to ever return back to normal again. Normal was the thing she chased for a year and a half, chased through suppressing her mutation and forgetting about it, chased through clenching her jaw when a boy went on an anti-mutant tirade in her poli sci class, chased through blurry frat parties and jello shots and kissing boys and kissing girls, chased through being recognized as a mutant by her boyfriend when her roots never showed and chased and chased and chased until she forgot what she was chasing. 

She realizes she could never be normal because the world could never forget that there were mutants in this world and they were supposed to hate them. Her mutant registration card has burned a hole in her pocket ever since it was given to her by an emotionless, faceless government employee who told her she was doing her duty, she was serving her country. Right. She was serving her country by putting a target on her head and daring anyone to take a shot. 

She realizes normal was never an option for her, even before she met the Autobots. In a world that hated and feared her, that shot mutants dead in street, that hung on tree branches after the MRA was passed, she was feared and hated by a world in which normal was never an option.

The Autobots just made it more clear that normal was dead and gone. 

Daphne must have fallen asleep because the next time she opened her eyes, Bee had stopped and the sky was dark. "We're here," he exclaimed, bouncing on his tires. Chuckling, the three got out of Bee. Stretching her back and running a hand through her hair, the Autobots transformed around them. Lennox jumped out of Ironhide, patting him gently on the door as the black Autobot transformed. The weapons specialist scanned the area and let out a satisfied huff, nodding at Optimus. A trailer was parked behind Optimus, full of cars her two Guardians could pick from. Some of the soldiers start to back them out carefully, lining them up behind the makeshift camp. 

She looked around, amazed at what she saw. They were in the middle of absolute nowhere, the only sound the occasional car passing on the highway behind them. They were situated at the base of a mountain, surrounded by dry desert to the West and trees to the East. It was beautiful, and, most importantly, deserted, the best place for two alien robots to make planetfall. 

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker will be making planetfall in approximately twelve Earth minutes," Optimus announce, gazing upwards to the heavens. 

"So soon?" she blurted out and Jazz nodded. 

"They'll be comin' in hot an' quick, so y'all got stand behind us at all times, got it?" Jazz stated, and the group of humans nodded. Sam and Mikaela moved to join the other humans as they gathered around a quickly made campfire. She smiled as she saw Epps bring out a bag of marshmallows, but she decided to stay beside the Autobots. 

She stood beside Jazz, leaning against his silver pede. "What are my Guardians like?" she asked, looking up at the stars. 

He looked down at her, his visor glowing blue, but she kept her attention to the stars, hoping to catch a glimpse of planetfall. "Well, that's a difficult question answer, sweetspark," he mused. "They're good warriors, twins, some of the most loyal 'Bots Ah know. They're pretty big pranksters, an' have made the mistake of crossing the Hatchet a few too many times," she giggled as she sees Ratchet glare at the silver Autobot. "Sunstreaker's got a hella of temper an' likes a shiny paint job, an' Sides is flirty an' brass." His expression turns contemplative and places a gentle servo on her back. "But, they'll take good care of yah and Ah think yah will like them."

She flashes him a bright smile and presses herself closer to the warmth of his pede, suddenly cold as the wind started to blow. "Thanks, Jazz," she says and her excitement starts to overtake her nerves. 

"Look!" someone cries suddenly, pointing up to the sky. 

"And angels will rain down like visitors from Heaven! Hallelujah!" Bumblebee plays.

Daphne looks upward, seeing two burning objects in the atmosphere, heading straight towards them. The collective groups grow quiet, watching them descend. As they grow closer and closer, she can feel the faint but growing pings of energy, like she felt when she first met the Autobots. 

She claps her hands over her ears and Jazz shields her with his servo as her Guardians crash into the base of the mountain, the length of a football between them. She feels the vibrations from the crash and over the slight ringing in her ears, she can hear muffled cursing from some of the soldiers. 

When Jazz moves his servo, she can see the crash site, steam rolling off of the twin craters. She moves forward but Jazz holds her back. Optimus motions and some of the soldiers pull the potential alt modes closer to the crash site, before promptly running back to the group.

Nothing happens for a minute or so and she can feel everyone holding their breath. And then she can hear the telltale noise of transformation, and somehow they sound more alien. From behind Jazz's pede, she can see two figures still hidden in the trees that surround the crash site. Optimus calls to them in their native language and gestures toward the line of vehicles. One of them calls back and Optimus chuckles, the atmosphere relaxing. 

The two figures in the trees examine the cars with one elbowing the other. After a few minutes, there are twin flashes of light, and two cars now sit at the base of the mountain. They're both Lamborghinis, one a cherry red, the other a deep yellow. They roll towards the group and once they're a few yards away, they transform. 

While the other Autobots' transformations have been things of astonishment, none have been as fluid and as dancelike as these two. The only comparison would be Jazz, but he holds nothing on her two Guardians. _My G_ _uardians,_ she thinks, and a thrill of excitement rushes through her. 

Her Guardians are creatures of beauty, made up of artistic lines in contrast to the sharper lines of the other Autobots. The one on the right, the red, is slightly more delicate looking than his yellow counterpart, with wheels for pedes, a slender body with a puffed-out chest. His helm reminds her of a great horned owl's, two horns above his Autobot blue optics and symmetrical tufts on either side of his face. His brother is broader, almost a straight line from the bottom of his pedes to the top of his shoulders, with a slight taper to his waist. His helm is similar to the red's, but reminds her almost of a Samurai's helmet, with thick plating on either side of his head that curves upwards. 

"Greetings," Optimus rumbles from ahead of her. "Sideswipe," his helm inclines slightly towards the red Autobot. "Sunstreaker, I trust you are well?"

"Better than ever, Bossbot," Sideswipe replies cheekily, his faceplates quirked into a smile. "Sideswipe, reporting for duty and ready to kick some Decepticon ass!"

"Sideswipe," Sunstreaker hisses, elbowing his brother roughly. He salutes Optimus, his face stoic. "We are well, sir, and eager to see some action."

Optimus chuckles, placing his servos on his hips. "Rest easy, twins. We have not seen any Decepticon activity since the defeat of Megatron at Mission City and do not expect any activity for a few weeks, perhaps months."

Both deflate simultaneously and Daphne giggles quietly, Jazz rumbling in laughter above her. As the twins and Optimus, joined by Ironhide, debrief, General Morshower walks up to them, a slightly perturbed expression on his face. "When will I be able to welcome the two soldiers and get their signatures on the treaty?" he asks Jazz, folding his arms. 

"Later, General," he replies easily. "They need to be introduced to their charge first," he says, ruffling Daphne's hair slightly. 

"And why can't that happen after I get their signatures? The Defense Secretary won't be pleased," the General says, exasperated. She narrows her eyes at him, wondering why he'd be in a rush to get them to sign. 

Jazz pauses, before he crouches down so he can be at eye level with the General. "Guardianship is something sacred in our society," he says seriously, dropping his adopted accent. "Once you choose to be a Guardian of a charge, it is a life long commitment that can only be broken by a Prime. Their obligation to their charge is prioritized above all else and it would take Megatron himself to separate a Guardian from their charge."

"Oh," the General says softly, blinking quickly. "I, uh, will leave you to it then," he adds, walking quickly in the direction of the soldiers. 

Daphne laughed, eyes twinkling as she smiles at Jazz. "You just totally unarmed him," she giggles. 

"Ah guess Ah did," he replies sheepishly, standing up and rubbing his helm. "C'mon, sweetspark, enough gigglin', there's acouple of 'Bots who are dyin' to meet yah."

She gulps as Jazz leads her over to the four Autobots. She looks at her two Guardians' curiously, her eyes drifting up their forms. The twins' optics are already on her as she walks over and she gulps again, averting her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks. 

"It's my two favorite troublemakers," Jazz calls cheerily, thumping them both on the backs (quite a feat due to his small stature). Sunstreaker hisses, replying in Cybteronian, causing the surrounding Autobots to laugh. Daphne stops next to Optimus, and she hates that she's giving in to her anxiety, but she's anxious, and half hides behind Optimus' pede.

The Autobot leader chuckles slightly, moving so she is now standing in front of him. She freezes, feeling the twins' optics on her again, Sideswipe looking friendly while Sunstreaker is once again stoic. "Twins, may I introduce you to Daphne Winters, Autobot ambassador to the United States government and your presumed charge. And Daphne," he shifts, so his pede his pressed against her back. "This Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Autobot frontliners whom I hope will become your Guardians."

"Hello there, hoo-man," Sideswipe says, squatting down at smiling at her. His optics blink for a second and he frowns, looking up at Optimus. "Not to alarm you, Boss, but I, uh, don't think this one is human." 

"I'm a mutant," she replies, irritated, walking away from Optimus and glaring at him. "And you don't look very sentient, maybe you're not a Cybetronian," she sasses and regrets the words as soon as they come out, her eyes going wide. 

To her surprise and relief, the Autobots laugh, even the stoic Sunstreaker lets out a chuckle. "Ooo, she's got some fire, I like her already," Sideswipe says excitedly, his optics bright. "You ever sass the Hatchet like that?" he adds, poking her in the arm.

She hisses and recoils slightly, cradling her arm to her chest. Her burns send fire up her arms and she lets out a deep breath, trying not to tear up. Sideswipe too recoils, looking up at Optimus in horror. "Oh Primus, did I break her already?"

"It seems our presumed charge is defective, Optimus," Sunstreaker says, and when she opens her mouth to berate him, she closes it when she sees the concern in his eyes. 

Above her, Optimus sighs, rubbing at his face. "No, she is not defective, nor is she broken. She sustained burns from prolonged contact with the Allspark."

As the pain fades away, she manages a smile. "It's no big deal. The pain was worth it see Lord Jackass melt away," she jokes. "But, just be careful. We humans are a lot more fragile than Autobots." Sideswipe nods solemnly, carefully standing up after Sunstreaker glares at him, as if he was afraid to hurt her again. In that instant, she knew she was going to be safe. 

"Daphne," Optimus rumbles, and she turns slightly so she can look up at him. "Will you, Daphne, accept Sideswipe and Sunstreaker as your Guardians?"

She looks at the two Autobots, their optics bright, Sideswipe looking giddy, Sunstreaker looking serious. "Yes," she replies simply and she feels a slight buzzing in her body, her magic suddenly appearing, lifting off of her body like the steam that crawled out of the craters minutes ago. 

Sunstreaker's optics widen slightly as he sees her magic appear, the blue reflected back on his paint. "And will you, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, promise to protect Daphne Winters as your charge?" Optimus asks.

"As long as our sparks are beating, Daphne will be our charge," the twins reply as one, their optics flashing. She hears a low hum as her magic settles, melting back in her skin, clinging to her hair. To the Autobots, she doesn't look human at all for an instant, her face cast in blue light that washes out her skin forms harsh lines, the white around her eyes brighter. But only for a moment. 

She lets out a breath she didn't she was holding and smiles at her two Guardians. She no longers hears the hum, but can feel it in her bones, feel something intangible connect her to the two Autobots in front of her. They smile back and she feels a fluttering in her chest that she's not entirely sure is her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're almost out of the introductions and into the action!


	5. call me nervous, call me excited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl gets to go home.

Sunstreaker looked over at his human charge, mildly amused. The femme was sparing with Jazz's holoform in an effort to gauge her skill in hand in hand combat. Ratchet had put a cream on her burns that reduced her pain so she could spar. Once he and his twin took her back to her college, a place Ratchet described as a cesspool of hormones and various human liquids, it would be up to the two frontliners to train her. Despite his mild disdain in being tasked with guarding a human instead of fighting alongside his fellow Autobots, he had to admit that his charge, Daphne, was quite skilled. He had expressed admiration in hearing about the school she had attended and the military-style training she had received. It made his job both easier and more interesting. 

He winced as Ratchet pulled on sensitive wires within his servo, his attention pulled away from his charge to glare at the medic. He had damaged his servo in a fight and it had been glitching ever since. "That hurt," he growled. Sideswipe laughed beside him and Sunstreaker turned his glare at his brother. 

"Don't be such a sparkling, Sunny," Sideswipe joked, flicking him in the head. 

"You were doing the same thing when Ratchet worked on you," he shot back, shoving his twin through the bond. 

"Stop it, you two. Behave with dignity, or else," the medic warned. Both twins winced in the memory of being hit countless times with a wrench by the grouchy medic and wisely shut their mouths. 

In the silence, both twins turned their attention back the sparring. Jazz had switched from his holoform to his root form, the saboteur showing Daphne the vulnerable places in their armor. The human soldiers watching threw in tips and she nodded diligently, a light blue crackling around her. Sunstreaker had been fascinated when he was told what his charge was, even more fascinated when he saw her power at work. She had given them a demonstration earlier that morning on the way back from their crash sight. She even had an EMF field and Ratchet had informed them over time she would be able to feel their own EMF fields, perhaps even communicate over Autobot comm channels. 

But as fascinated he and his twin were over this human-but-not femme, they were confused over why they had been chosen to guard her. While they were both the finest soldiers the Autobots had ever seen, they had never worked with Prime directly, and it seemed like their charge had already bonded with Jazz. 

_::Should we ask?::_ Sideswipe questioned over their bond. 

_::Probably,::_ he replied, gritting his teeth as Ratchet poked around in his servo. _::But you ask, I don't want the Hatchet to mess up my wiring.::_

Chuckling, Sideswipe cleared his throat. "So, Hatchet, why is this squishy so important that Prime put Sunny and I in charge of guarding her?" Mentally, Sunstreaker sighed over his brother's brashness and inability to be anything but a joker.

Ratchet paused, his optics flashing. "Prime didn't tell you?" he replied, sounding surprised as he switched to Cybetronian. 

The twins exchanged a glance. "No," Sunstreaker said slowly. "What do you mean?"

Ratchet started to curse under his breath, an expression of exasperation on his face. "She's special," he said, glancing over to make sure the human was still occupied with Jazz. "As you know, Daphne's power is electro-magnetically based. She absorbs energy, integrates it into her own, and uses it. She also gives off her own electro-magnetism, and we can see that through the EMF field she gives off. When she killed Megatron with the Allspark," he says slowly, his face wary. "Some of the Allspark energy integrated into her own energy."

"Wait, do you mean our charge is now the Allspark?" Sideswipe said, gaping at the femme across the room. 

"No," the medic replied, shaking his head. "Not at all. She merely possesses some of the Allspark energy. It will boost her, perhaps even give her some new abilities, but we don't believe she possesses any of the life-giving aspects of the Allspark or its knowledge. Eventually, it will be fully integrated into her system that no one will be able to tell the difference between her own energy and the energy of the Allspark."

"What do you mean by 'fully integrated?'" Sunstreaker asked, wincing again as the medic pulled on the wires.

Ratchet hesitated, a slightly guilty expression on his face. "I, Prime, and her mutant mentor, Professor Charles Xavier, found it in both her best interest and the best interest of the Autobots to block some of her powers and allow it to integrate over time. Daphne has no knowledge of possessing Allspark energy or the integration process."

" _What?"_ both twins exclaimed, their voices rising. The surrounding humans and Autobots looked over curiously, including their charge. Jazz used her lapse in concentration to gently slap her to the ground, her blue light flickering as she jumped back to her fight. 

"You gave her no say in this?" Sunstreaker hissed angrily. "It's _her_ powers, Ratchet."

"And Prime didn't think this would be useful knowledge to the very mechs who are tasked in protecting her?" Sideswipe added, his silver twin suddenly serious.

The medic sighed, closing Sunstreaker's servo and standing up. He suddenly looked old, old and tired. "We didn't tell her because her mentor though it would damage her and we didn't the human government to grow interested in her. And Prime was going to give you the information if you asked."

"Ratchet, I don't think-" Sunstreaker started but the medic cut him off with a glare. 

"I believe that is the end of that conversation, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe. You are not to repeat any of this conversation, nor discuss the contents with your charge. This a direct order from Prime. Am I clear, mechs?" The twins nodded reluctantly, exchanging a glance with each other, knowing this conversation was far from over. "Now," the medic clapped his hands, his voice neutral. "I'd like both of you to try out your holoforms."

"Do I have to masquerade as a squishy? We can defend Daphne much better if we're in our root forms," Sunstreaker reasoned, flexing his now repaired servo. 

"Do it now, Sunstreaker," the medic replied sternly. Sunstreaker sighed, but Sideswipe looked absolutely delighted. His silver twin always enjoyed the stranger assignments they were assigned and this was no exception. Sunstreaker did not find it dignified for a mech of his rank to diminish himself by pretending to be a squishy. Organics, in his opinion, were a little gross, always a little damp, and wanting to run their dirty little servos all over his beautiful alt mode. And they were too fragile, all it took was a bump to hurt them, like when Sideswipe had poked their charge and injured her.

But, he remembered, glancing over at his charge, starting up the holoform program, not all organics were gross. Daphne was pleasant when she rode in his alt mode from their crash sight to the Autobot base. Kept her hands to herself, complimented the interior, didn't leak any fluids. His tiny little charge who had no idea the power she had. Who had no idea the danger she was in. 

In a blink of an optic, he was in his holoform. Ratchet had tried to explain exactly what they were, some sort of weird science he and Wheeljack had concocted, but it went over his head. Sunstreaker looked down at himself, seeing dark skin that was covered with... dots? No, _freckles,_ that was what the humans called the skin damage they got from their sun's rays. He felt small. Very small. 

He looked up to see his root form still sitting against the wall, his optics vacant, with Sides sitting across from him. He looked to his left and saw his twin standing besides him, excitedly looking at servos and poking himself in the stomach. 

There was a sudden crash and the twins looked to see their charge looking over at them from a half seated position, Jazz looming over her with a smug smile. Her mouth was open, her eyes wide, her cheeks pink. Her EMF field fluctuated wildly, looking between them. 

"What?" the twins asked in unison. 

"I, uh, well," Daphne stammered. "You, well, you, just," she gestured, her cheeks growing even pinker. 

Near them, one of the human soldiers, who Sunstreaker thought was named Lennox, laughed suddenly, helping her up from the ground. The femme leaned against, her eyes still wide. "I think our girl is starstruck."

"Starstruck?" Sides repeated, frowning. "Is she damaged?"

Lennox laughed again and Daphne elbowed him. "I just wasn't expecting _that_ ," she said, gesturing again. 

"By that, the eloquent Daphne Winters means you both look nice," Lennox said and she grew even pinker. 

They looked up at Ratchet who was smiling slightly. "Hormones," the medic supplied. 

"Oh," Sunstreaker nodded, crossing his arms. Daphne's eyes bulged, narrowing on his arms. He was happy that his holoform was as attractive is rootform. "She finds us attractive."

"No, I don't!" she spluttered. "I was just surprised."

"Bullshit," Lennox coughed and she slapped a hand over her face. 

"Okay, I'm done, I'm gonna walk away and go shower," she shouted, her hand still over her face and walking determinedly toward the barracks. 

The twins exchanged a smile. Who knew guarding a squishy could be fun?

~~~

Daphne still felt flustered when she and her Guardians left the Hoover Dam later that afternoon. Despite only being around the Mission City crew for a week, it was surprisingly hard to say goodbye to everyone. Lennox and Epps both shook her head, making her promise to come and visit the NEST base once it was up and running. Sam and Mikaela both wanted to visit her at Berkeley and they exchanged phone numbers, promising to meet up. Bumblebee sneakily told her she would be the first to know once Sam and Mikaela finally got together. Both Ratchet and Ironhide told her to keep an eye on her Guardians for them, to her amusement and the twins' frustration. Jazz had ruffled her hair and told her to keep practicing once she got home. 

And then there was Optimus. She found saying goodbye to the Autobot leader the hardest of her goodbyes, partly due to his kindness, partly because he reminded her of the Professor. His blue optics had been steady when he told her she was in capable servos, the best protection the Autobots had to offer. "Do not underestimate yourself, Daphne Winters," he rumbled. "You are more than you realize."

Optimus' parting words had left her feeling as light as a feather, but as it set in that she was going to be sitting _in_ Sideswipe for the next ten hours, next to his very attractive holoform that she kept glancing at, she was reminded of her mini freakout back at the base. 

But, really, who could have blamed her when Sideswipe looked like _that?_ He looked to be a few years older than her, maybe twenty-five, and towered over her by a foot. He had light brown, golden skin, looking to be of Middle Eastern descent. While he was well-built, he wasn't thickly built, with a tapered waist and broad shoulders. He had silver hair that occasionally got in his eyes, a sharp jawline, and the Autobot blue eyes, hidden behind a pair of clear, round glasses. 

And Sunstreaker. While she could describe Sideswipe as pretty, Sunstreaker was handsome, hot, and dangerous. He had darker skin than Sideswipe with thick forearms and biceps the size of her head. He was slightly taller than his brother, his brownish-gold hair kept short with a splattering of freckles across his nose and high cheekbones. Each holoform had a gold hoop in one ear.

In short, both of her Guardians were hot. And she was plain in comparison. 

"Like what you see, Daph?" Sideswipe snickered from the driver's seat and she snapped her attention forward.

"I, uh, was just spacing out," she replied, swiping her hair behind her ear. 

He chuckled again, the holoform's fingers adjusting on the steering wheel. "So, you're a mutant," he stated and she raised her eyebrow. 

"Yeah?" she said, slightly confused. "You already knew that."

"What my idiotic brother was trying to do was trying to learn more about you," came Sunstreaker's voice from the radio. She yelped, surprised, and glanced in the mirror to see the golden Autobot right behind them, his holoform waving at her. 

She glared at Sideswipe who shrugged. "Internal comms. Just didn't expect you to be so jumpy, Daph," he added cheekily and she rolled her eyes. "But Sunny-"

" _Don't_ call me Sunny."

"-was right. We do want to know more about you, and we know being a mutant is a big part of who you are. I'm just not good at small talk," Sideswipe admitted, blushing slightly. 

She laughed, relaxing into her seat. "No, it's fine. Just not used to people talking about mutants so openly," she said, remembering all the times she had lied in the past when asked she was a mutant, or when she did tell someone, the disgust she was met with. "I kinda ignored my mutant identity for the past year and a half, though. Hadn't really used my powers until last week."

"And why did you ignore being a mutant?" Sunstreaker asked, and she could hear the frown in his voice. Sideswipe glanced over at her curiously.

"Stuff," she replied vaguely, her body tensing. Memories of her friend screaming, of smoke in the air, of the cold horror of a collar around her throat, came pouring back. "That's a story for another time."

"Got it," Sideswipe said quickly. "Ratchet gave us a briefing on your powers, but he didn't tell us why your hair is blue."

"Oh," she said, blinking a few times in surprise. "I'm actually not sure. Once I got my powers at twelve, my hair started growing in blue. There's a couple other people I know who's hair changed colors when they got their powers. I've tried dyeing it black but the dye never sticks."

"Hmm," Sunstreaker hummed thoughtfully. "We might have to find a way to hide your hair on the run to keep you safe."

"Why?" she asked. "Dyed hair is pretty normal, people won't be able to tell I'm a mutant just from looking at my hair. My eyes are another story," she joked. 

Sideswipe glanced in the rearview mirror. "We're not talking about squishies we have to protect you from."

"But we'll gladly take on a few squishies to keep you safe," Sunstreaker added. "We're talking about Decepticons. Your hair is pretty noticeable and easily trackable."

Daphne paused, taking that in. She hadn't really thought about the danger of her new life. Sure, Mission City had been scary, but that must have been a once in a lifetime thing. She had killed Megatron and the Decepticons had scattered. Her Guardians were just a precaution and the most dangerous part of all this was the potentiality of people noticing the new manifestation of power and harassing her for it. "Do you really think I'm going to get targeted?" she asked quietly. "Megatron's _dead._ "

Sideswipe bit his lip, running a hand through his hair. "It's not that simple," he said thoughtfully. "Starscream, Megatron's number two, escaped and no one's sure where he is."

"Although he hated Megatron, he's gonna try and rally his troops by going after the person who killed Megatron: _you_ , and by extension, your country and the Autobots. Plus, you've been named Autobot ambassador, and that just makes you a bigger target," Sunstreaker said bluntly. "That's why we're here, to protect you and make sure you're still alive."

Daphne blinked. "Oh, that's it?" she replied dryly, and twins both chuckled, Sideswipe gently squeezing her on the shoulder. On the inside, she was freaking out a bit. She had people trying to kill her before, like Magneto, or Friends of Humanity, but they had always been _people,_ people she could take down with her powers. But besides a few lucky shots in Mission City, her powers hadn't hurt the Decepticons at all. She was _defenseless-_ except for the twins, and a wave of gratitude went through her. 

"So, are you guys heading to classes with me, or...?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"Frag, no," Sunstreaker scoffed through the radio. "I'd rather pluck out my own optics than be surrounded by squishies all day."

"Sunstreaker," his brother scolded, throwing up a vulgar gesture towards the rearview mirror. The golden Autobot honked behind them and Daphne let out a chuckle. "To answer your question, totally not gross human no matter what my Sunny says-"

" _Don't_ call me Sunny."

"-we will not be attending classes with you. One of us will probably hang around campus while the other patrols."

"You gotta be careful, you might be arrested for loitering or get hit on by sorority girls," she teased, throwing her silver Guardian a smile. 

"Loitering?" both asked quizzically. 

"The frag are sorority girls and why would they be hitting us?" Sideswipe added indignantly. 

Daphne let out a sound that was both half a groan, half a laugh, sinking low in her seat and burrowing her face in her hands. "Oh my god, you guys have a lot to learn if you're going to fit in."

~~~

"Daphne, we're here." The mutant in question woke up in a start, draped across the backseat of Sunstreaker's alt form. Halfway through their road trip, she had switched cars, to the grumbling of a vain mech who was worried about her 'getting all her organic juices all over my nice interior.' His holoform, which was still shockingly handsome, his eyes piercing in a way Sideswipe's weren't, peered down at her, leaning against the open passenger door. 

She yawned, rubbing at her face, stretching. Sunstreaker moved back as she got up, looking up at her apartment complex. Thanks to a generous donor from the Xavier's (who she was pretty sure was Angel, or maybe it was Emma Frost, the influential mutant Democratic senator from New York who promised Daphne a summer job), she had been able to afford an oceanside apartment she shared with three roommates. Even though it was a couple miles away from the campus, she didn't mind the distance, taking the bus or riding her bike, when it meant she had an amazing view.

"Oh!" she said suddenly, looking at Sunstreaker excitedly. "You guys can drive me to school, right?"

Sunstreaker groaned, but Sideswipe nodded, leaning against his alt form. "You bet, you're the boss, Daph," he replied cheekily, winking at her. He turned, looking at the ocean, illuminated by the moonlight. "That's real pretty," he remarked softly. 

Daphne smiled, following his gaze. For a Sunday night, she could see a few boats on the water, hear the sounds of bars in the neighborhood, the sounds of the city she now called home. "Yeah, I really like it. When we've got free time, I'll take you guys down." Sideswipe sent her a megawatt grin, and while Sunstreaker grumbled, she could see a small smile on his face. 

She led the Autobots up to her apartment, Sideswipe valiantly taking her suitcase. Her three housemates, Alan, Bryce, Chantel, were at the bars, promising to throw her a welcome back dinner the next night. Her housemates were her best friends, incredibly successful individuals who had accepted her with open arms when she told them she was a mutant. Alan was from Hawaii and was the president of the Pride Club, Bryce was from New Orleans and had gone to Egypt the previous summer for an archaeology internship, and Chantel was from Portland and lead the protest to get Ben Shapiro banned from campus. All in all, the four of them were some bad bitches. 

Smiling, she unlocked her door, gesturing for the two Autobots in disguise to step in, closing the door behind her. A small shape in the darkness bolted at her, meowing urgently. "Persephone!" she cooed, scooping her white and gray maine coon. She pressed kisses to her cat's forehead as Persephone purred, rubbing herself against Daphne's chin. 

"What the Pit is that?" Sideswipe asked in horror. Turning, she saw her Guardians pressed against the wall. When she turned on the lights, she laughed at the twin expressions of disgust on their faces.

"This is my cat, Persephone," she chuckled, hugging her close to her chest. "And she is my little baby!" she cooed and her cat purred in reply. 

"Is it dangerous?" Sunstreaker asked stiffly, looking like he might pull out a cannon and blast her baby. 

She laughed, setting Persephone down and scratching her head. "No, she's not dangerous. Well, she's not dangerous if you treat her with the respect a lady like herself deserves," she amended, going into the kitchen and filling up her cat's water bowl. She smiled at the note on the fridge, signed by her three housemates, welcoming her home. 

Turning, she saw her ferocious Guardians eyeing her cat with suspicion, giving her a wide berth and joining Daphne in the kitchen. Sideswipe gripped her bright pink suitcase like a welcome and Sunstreaker had a blank expression on his face, his bright blue eyes trained on her cat as if she was a Decepticon in disguise. 

Grinning, she led them down the hall to her bedroom, opening the door and immediately getting hit with a wave of stale air. Grumbling, she opened her windows and plopped down on her bed. "Welcome to my humble adobe," she exclaimed, gesturing. 

Sideswipe set her suitcase down, the twins looking around her room. Her room was a soft gray, but the paint was barely visible under the posters, pictures, paintings, and various nicknacks she had on the wall. She was quite proud of her creation and it had taken her hours when she first moved in. Her closet was next to the door, her bed across from it and her desk was under a window.

"Are all human dwellings this..." Sunstreaker paused, looking for the word. "Chaotic?"

She grimaced, sitting up. "This isn't 'chaotic,'" she mocked. "It's _creative._ "

He rolled his eyes, leaning against her door while Sideswipe sat down at her desk. "Sure, squishy," he drawled. 

"So," Sideswipe said suddenly, clapping his hands. She smirked at the expression on his face that clearly read 'the attention wasn't on me for ten seconds and I got bored.' "Sunny-"

"Holy frag, Sides, how many times will it take to get it through your thick helm that I don't like the name Sunny?"

"-is gonna patrol tonight while I stay here and guard your apartment. Then tomorrow, my charming brother will take you to school around nine while I patrol," Sideswipe exclaimed. 

She frowned. "Wait, how do you know when I need to get to school?"

The twins exchanged an amused glance. "We're a race of advanced mechs. Figuring out what your university schedule is isn't hard for us," Sunstreaker replied dryly. 

"Duh," Sideswipe added. 

She laughed and gave them both a smile. "I guess that's goodnight then?" she said, slightly uncertain on how to proceed. Did she give them a hug goodnight, a crisp high five, walk them out? 

Both nodded, giving her a slight grin. "Goodnight," they replied, and their holoforms disappeared into bursts of light.

 _Well, I guess that answers that question,_ she thought to herself sarcastically, heaving herself off of her bed and started to get ready to go to sleep after the craziest week of her life.


	6. that joke isn't funny anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl gets embarrassed at school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our stay at home order got extended until the end of May, ahahaha.

The past few days since she'd been back at school had been hellish. The Bartlett administration had decided to label the battle of Mission City as an act of terrorism (Fox News had started calling it an act of "mutant" terrorism, but CJ Cregg had shut it down quick), and despite a letter from the literal _President_ of the United States, many of her professors still expected her turn in all her work as soon as she got back. 

"You were just sitting in the hospital, right?" Dr. Ingrid, her communications professor, asked, looking down at her through his glasses after class.

She fidgeted, knowing that the 'down the glasses the look' was a look of disappointment and she did not handle disappointment from authority figures well. "Well, you see, Dr. Ingrid," she gestured, trying to find an excuse that didn't involve 'hey, actually I was involved in an alien battle and had to play mediator between the fucking US government and a bunch of robots and didn't find time to write a rhetorical analysis,' but, alas, she couldn't find the words.

He cut her off with a look. "I expect the paper in my email by five o'clock tonight, Ms. Winters," he said, leaving no room for disagreement. 

"Yes, sir," she replied glumly, walking determinedly out of the classroom. 

She slumped down on the bench, knocking her head against the table. Her friend, Bryce, who was already at the table, snickered. "Did Ingrid tear you a new asshole?" she asked, looking pretty in a black romper. Daphne looked up to see her friend smirking at her. Bryce was simply gorgeous, with long, wine red hair, big amber eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a body to die for her. Her curvy friend was the most popular one out of their friend group when they go out, getting numbers and free drinks from both genders.

"Oh, fuck you," she retorted and her friend laughed, pushing a basket of chicken strips and fries in her direction. "He got me with the _look_ ," she whined, mowing down on her fries. 

"The 'I'm really disappointed in you, Ms. Winters, and I can't believe you would ever miss an assignment' look?" Bryce imitated, tapping her long red acrylics against the table. In addition to her archaeology and history major, she had decided to minor in communications as well, something she shared with Daphne. And, due to Bryce's rather laisse faire, party girl attitude, she had been on the receiving end of several of Dr. Ingrid's looks.

"Yes!" Daphne groaned. "He's never going to forgive me."

"Oh, don't worry," the redhead replied, taking a sip of her coffee. "You just gotta bribe him with some baked goods, he loves cinnamon rolls." 

Daphne took a mental note, already planning on heading to the store after lunch and picking up ingredients. "Good idea, thanks, Bryce," she said, smiling.

"Whatever would you do without me?" Bryce sighed dramatically and the two laughed. She suddenly waved to someone behind them, and the mutant turned around to see their other two housemates and best friends, Alan and Chantel. 

"Hello, my lovely ladies!" Alan greeted brightly, sliding into the seat next to Daphne, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He was wearing a pair of white polka dot shorts with a blue polo, the dark blue complimenting his brown skin. "Oh, shit, why did no one warn me this seat was hot?" he winced, setting his salad down. 

Chantel rolled her eyes, her dark, curly hair in two buns on top of her head. "Common sense should have warned you," she said dryly and Alan stuck his tongue out at her. Chantel was the most fashionable person Daphne knew, daring to wear a pair of camouflage pants in eighty-degree weather, paired with a crop top and white sneakers. She carefully applied gold highlighter along her cheekbones, popping against her ebony skin.

Sometimes, Daphne was jealous of how effortlessly fashionable Chantel, and her two other friends, were. Sure, she thought she dressed well, but didn't pull it off with the confidence her friends did. When she picked her outfit out today, a jean skirt and a crop top, in her head, she could hear the voice of her mom and her _nai nai_ critiquing what she wore.

"I was just giving Daph shit for not having common sense either! What a coincidence," Bryce gasped dramatically. It was Daphne's turn to roll her eyes, kicking her friend under the table. 

"My little Celestial is always smart," Alan snorted, matching the dramatics of Bryce. All three of her best friends/housemates were two years older than her, having transferred to Berkeley the same year Daphne had started. Alan liked to make jokes about the age gap, calling her his little 'darling/dove/star/creampuff/donut,' etc. 

"Ingrid not give you an extension?" Chantel asked, sipping on her smoothie.

She shook her head sadly, slumping slightly. "When he ignored the letter from Bartlett, I pulled the 'I was in the hospital card,' but not even that worked," she remarked forlornly. She felt a twinge of guilt go through her as she was reminded that she was lying to her best friends in the role. Optimus had made it clear that she couldn't tell anyone what happened. Chantel and Alan had taken her story at face value, but Bryce hadn't been entirely convinced. 

"Dick," Alan snorted, taking a bite of his salad. "But you know you can bullshit this essay."

"Oh, totally," she replied, grinning wickedly. "I was just hoping to take a nap when I got home cause I don't have any work for Con Law or Law and Difference tomorrow. But, alas, I actually have to do schoolwork."

All three of them snorted, and her grin grew wider. Chantel and Alan were both pre-med and busy almost every second of the day, and Bryce was juggling schoolwork and an internship. But, before she could poke fun at her friends for their massive workload, she heard her name being called. 

"Daphne!" she heard, and she froze, recognizing the voice. _Oh, no,_ she thought. 

"Daphne," she heard again, albeit a different voice but one she recognized too. 

"Oh, god, no," she groaned, slumping in her seat. Chantel and Bryce looked over her curiously and once they found the source of the voices, their mouths dropped. 

"Holy shit, Alan, you're going to want to see this," Bryce breathed, kicking him under the table. 

"What is so damn important that- oh," he gulped, turning around. 

Daphne peeked over her shoulder and saw what her friends, and every fucking person at Berkely, was seeing. _Oh, no,_ she thought again, spotting her Guardians. _What did they have to be so hot?_

Her two Guardians strutted through the promenade, matching pairs of black sunglasses on their faces. Sideswipe was sporting a pair of light washed skinny jeans and a white button-down, shooting grins at every person he saw. He ran a hand through his silver hair before waving at her. 

"Mary, Joseph and Jesus, Daph, you know these fucking models?" Chantel hissed. 

And Sideswipe wasn't even the bad part. Sunstreaker was wearing a resting bitch face, dressed head to toe in black, walking through the crowd as if everyone was beneath him. When he caught her gaze, he nodded slightly, continuing what could only be called a murder strut. 

"Unfortunately, I do," she answered, burying her head in her hands. She had made it _clear_ that they shouldn't come to compass or approach her unless it was an emergency. They were too noticeable, looked too old to attend college, drew unwelcome attention to her. But by their leisurely stroll, this was no emergency.

"Oh, this is entirely fortunate," Bryce purred. "If you're not fucking them, then I am."

"Ugh, no fair," Alan pouted and Daphne's head popped up. 

"Guys!" she hissed, her face going red. But, it was already too late, the tall men casting a long shadow over their table. 

"Daphne," Sideswipe greeted cheerily. Bryce gulped from across the table and she heard Chantel mutter a low 'girl same.'

She turned around slowly, her face burning. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "I thought we agreed you wouldn't come to campus."

Sideswipe pouted and she hated that her heart skipped a beat. "You weren't answering your phone and Sunny was worried," he explained innocently. 

"Was not," Sunstreaker retorted, crossing his arms. 

"Ah-hem," Bryce interrupted and Daphne cringed. "Daph, why don't you introduce us to your friends. I'm Bryce, by the way," she purred, flipping her long red hair. Even without using her telepathy, she could feel the waves of lust coming off of Bryce and the entire fucking student body.

The blue-haired girl sighed and suddenly wished she had the powers of teleportation. "Guys, these are my friends-" she paused, realizing they had never gone over human names. The twins seem to realize that as well, freezing. "Um, Silas," she recovered, gesturing to Sideswipe. "And Sawyer, but you can call him Sunny. They're brothers," she could feel her Guardian's glare, but it was her way of paying him back for this situation. "Silas, Sawyer, these are my best friends and housemates Bryce, Chantel, and Alan." Recognition flashed in the twins' eyes at the mention of housemates and they waved in unison.

"Hi," Chantel said breathlessly, her smoothie entirely forgotten in front of her. 

"It's so nice to meet you," Alan said sweetly, leaning against her as if he was swooning. 

"I'm simply enchanted to meet you," Bryce smirked and Daphne slowly wanted to bury herself in a dark hole where she never needed to finish this interaction. Her redhead friend had leaned forward and puffed her chest out, putting her chest on full display. "How do you know our Daphne?" she asked, twirling a piece of hair. 

"Met her through a mutual friend of ours," Sideswipe replied, flashing them a smile. She could hear her friends swoon as Sideswipe, or should she say, Silas, put on the charm. He seemed to know exactly how to leave people speechless, cocking his head slightly that made him that more adorable. "The three of us really clicked and we wanted to come visit Daph."

"Wanted to take her on a little road trip," Sunstreaker added, looking very much like he didn't want to be there and to not try and fuck with him. Bryce looked at him like she wanted to eat him up right then and there, so obviously it wasn't working.

"What friend?" Chantel asked, her eyes wide. 

"Uh-" Sideswipe stumbled, his eyes flickering to Daphne. 

She could read the slight panic in his eyes and the way Sunstreaker stiffened. "It's okay, they know I'm a mutant," she said softly. "I met Silas and Sunny-"

" _Please,_ do not call me Sunny."

"-through a friend from when I went to Xavier's," she stumbled slightly over the word, not accustomed to admitting aloud she went to Xavier's. "Said he knew a couple of mutants in the area that he thought I should meet."

"Oh, you're mutants? Didn't know Daph had any mutant friends," Alan gave her a side glance that clearly said 'I didn't know you knew two smoking hot guys!' "If you don't mind me asking, what are your mutations?"

"Good with electronics," Sideswipe said. 

"Strong and fast," Sunstreaker answered at the same time. They exchanged a glance and they both chuckled. 

"And what road trip are you taking Daph on?" Bryce asked, batting her eyelashes in a way that said 'fuck me please.' "Any way you can make this threesome a foursome?" she added suggestively. Daphne could see the slight confusion on the twins' faces and held back a laugh. 

"No," Sunstreaker replied shortly. "Just the three of us." She could tell Sunstreaker was getting tired of this charade and very desperately wanted to get out of there.

"What my brother meant to say," Sideswipe added quickly, elbowing his brother. "Is that as much as we would love the pleasure of your company," he said, gesturing to the three of them. Chantel let out a giggle and Alan looked like he was in love. "We're taking Daph to a gym that's exclusive to mutants that one of our friends told us about. Right, Daph?"

She gaped at her Guardian, but quickly schooled her expression. _They were going to what?_ she seethed. _What the fucking hell, they never mentioned this! I've never been to a mutant gym! These two fuckers, I'm going to kill them._

But, aloud, she said, "Ah, yeah, I forgot, sorry guys." Sunstreaker sent her an approving nod and she resisted the urge to kick him. 

"Oh, no problem at all!" Chantel replied quickly, but Bryce pouted. "Don't want to keep you guys."

"But you have to promise you'll come to the bars with us sometime!" Bryce added quickly. "I look _great_ in a white dress," she said, winking at Sunstreaker.

"Okay!" Daphne exclaimed, jumping up quickly and throwing her stuff in the trash. "We don't want to be late for the gym," she added, shooting daggers at her Guardians. 

Both ignored the promise of violence in her eyes, both, even Sunstreaker, grinning at her friends. "It was nice meeting you!" Sideswipe said cheerfully as she grabbed them by the arms and dragging them to the parking lot. 

"A pleasure," Sunstreaker added dryly, dutifully allowing Daphne the honor of pretending to be strong enough to make him do anything. 

As soon as they had walked a few yards, she heard the unmistakable cackling and laughing of her three friends. Oh, she knew what they were doing. They were ogling the twins', _asses,_ making bets on which one she would fuck, the answer was neither, and how mad she would get if Bryce slept with Sunstreaker, and the answer to that question was _very_ mad. 

Once they had reached the parking lot and the twins' alt modes, Daphne had swung around and kicked both of their tires. They winced in unison, but still managed to look like the cats who ate the canary. "What the _hell_ was that?!" she screeched, her face growing red.

"What?" Sideswipe asked innocently. "We just wanted to meet your friends, what's the harm in that? Besides," he pouted. "You weren't answering your phone and we were worried."

"Very worried," Sunstreaker smirked, crossing his arms and leaning against his prestigious alt mode. "Didn't know you could get the red, Winters," he added cockily, looking _very_ hot, and she hated him even more for it. 

"You-you _imbeciles!"_ she seethed, try to kick their holoforms but they both dodged it. "We hadn't planned for covers for your holoforms! You're lucky I'm smart and not a dumbass like you and can think on my _fucking_ feet. Also, in case you haven't fucking noticed, I'm pretty noticeable as it is with, you know, the glowing eyes that say if you didn't know I was a mutant already, well, now you know! And who could forget, the weird-ass burns that are kinda scars now that tell you I went through some pretty fucked shit! And now with two tall, stupidly hot morons around I'm even _more_ noticeable!" Once she finished, she was breathing heavily and leaned against Sideswipe's alt mode as she got slightly dizzy.

"You finished?" Sunsteaker asked cockily.

"Jackass," she said in response. "Rat bastards."

They both chuckled. "Well, now that you're finished, you ready to go?" Sideswipe asked, still looking innocent. 

She glared at him for a moment, before looking at Sunstreaker. "This was all his idea, right?' she asked. 

"Oh, _totally,_ " Sunstreaker replied, a full-on grin spreading across his face. "I wouldn't be caught dead here if it was my choice."

"Hey!" Sideswipe protested. "You went along with it!"

"Jackass," she repeated, punching her silver Guardian in the arm. He pouted at her, but she stomped away, flinging open the passenger door of Sunstreaker's alt form and sunk into the passenger seat. 

~~~

Gyms specifically for mutants were a rather new phenomenon, popping up in the past few years, due to the passage of the Mutant Registration Act. Stipulated in the MRA, mutants who wanted to use their powers publicly must pass a course from an institution that accredited their control of their power. Every three years, mutants must pass the course again, and every year, mutants must return to the institution for an evaluation of their class and level. Prior to the passage of the MRA, there weren't many institutions that specialized in teaching mutants existed, most of them being schools. But, well-trained mutants who showed proof they passed a course at an institution like Xavier's could open up their own training gyms. And they were headed to one now. 

"Who told you about this?" Daphne asked, looking over at Sunstreaker who was driving. 

"Your Professor," he answered, his eyes on the road. 

"You talked to the Professor?" she said in surprise. 

"Yeah, Prime gave us his number after we left, since we're in charge of your training."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Daphne groaned and Sunstreaker smiled slightly. "I feel like I'm in high school again."

"Well, we told the Professor we didn't really know how to help you with your powers so he sent us to David Alleyne. Said you'd know him as Prodigy?" Sideswipe chimed in through the radio. 

She blinked in surprise. "Prodigy?" she questioned and Sunstreaker nodded in response. "Huh," she mused, frowning slightly. 

"What?" Sunstreaker asked, glancing over at her. 

"Oh, nothing. I just didn't know he lived in California. The last time we talked he was interning with Emma Frost," she replied, and then her frown deepened. The last time they had talked, to her chagrin, had been right before the passage of the MRA. 

"What do you think happened?" he asked again. She had learned that despite his gruff exterior, Sunstreaker cared about the people around him, his fellow soldiers, his brother, even Ratchet. And it seemed that he cared about her too, now that she was his charge. 

"Well," she begins, fidgeting slightly. "You guys know about the Mutant Registration Act?" Sunstreaker nods and Sideswipes buzzes an affirmative over the radio.

"We both think it's incredibly stupid," Sunstreaker huffs. "Instead of using their biggest asset, your stupid human government is criminalizing it."

Daphne smiles at him, nodding her agreement. "Well, after it passed, the mutant world was in chaos. People were freaking out, scared that they were going to lose their jobs, homes, and loved ones. Mutants were forced to register and get certified or lose their jobs. A lot of people lost their jobs, and I think David did. The US Senate isn't really a kind employer," she said sarcastically and feels her magic flare up slightly. "I bet he got certified through the Professor and came to open a gym where people needed it."

"He seems nice," Sideswipe says and she smiles. 

"Yeah, he is. He was a couple years older than me in school and stayed on to help for a year," she replies, remembering David's kindness when she was struggling in school after her powers had manifested. 

"Does that mean you're not mad at me anymore?" Sideswipe whines. "Since you know him."

She chuckles and crosses her arms. "Absolutely not. You embarrassed me in front of my friends!" she retorts and then the twins chuckle. She rolls her eyes, fighting the urge to kick the dashboard. "Besides," she adds, growing a bit more serious. "It's kinda worse that it's someone I know. My powers aren't what they used to be."

There's a bit of silence as Sunstreaker's eyes dim, talking to Sideswipe over the coms. "The Professor mentioned you haven't kept in practice with your powers," he says carefully. 

Daphne sighs, knowing that this conversation would come up eventually. "Yeah," she replies softly. "Um, a couple weeks before I went off to school, there was an, uh, accident," she says, stumbling over her words. "Someone got hurt, and it was my fault. If I hadn't shown off with my powers, she wouldn't have gotten hurt. Up until Mission City, I hadn't really used my powers in a year and a half."

She feels her cheeks heat up as she admits a kernel of the truth that had hung over her for the past year and a half. Someone, not just someone, her best friend, had gotten hurt because she had been so _fucking_ egotistical because she was an Omega level mutant and nothing could hurt her. 

"Is she okay?" Sideswipe asked hesitantly. 

"Yeah, but it, uh, took a while. Took a while for me too," she admits, unconsciously rubbing her neck where the power suppressing collar had been clamped. She stops when she feels Sunstreaker's eyes on her and she turns to look out the window. "Hope forgave me because she is just too good. But I just couldn't forgive myself."

"People make mistakes," Sunstreaker replies gruffly. "Soldiers make mistakes. They do them all the time. Frag, even I made a mistake once." She chuckles at that, wiping at her eyes just in case. "But you better be ready to face David and use your powers because I did _not_ walk through a mob of greasy squishies just to see you chicken out."

~~~

David, or Prodigy, hadn't changed much since she last saw him. He was still the good looking black kid with yellow glasses she had known from Xavier's. "Daph!" he greeted, pulling her into a hug. 

"Prod!" she squeezed him back, smiling widely. "I haven't seen you in forever! And this place is amazing," she said, gesturing around his gym. On one side, there was a bunch of regular gym equipment. But, on the other side, which was much bigger, it seemed like he had remade the Danger Room. There were people sparring on mats, targets set up for practice, and private rooms where she could see people using their powers. One of the private rooms looked like a maze, and she winced in memory. 

"Thanks," he replied, grinning widely. "Nori and I are pretty proud of what we built. We got a couple of other people from Xavier's working here too, but a lot of them, including Nori, are out running a few errands."

Daphne deflated slightly but felt internally relieved. At least David would be the only one she knew here and the only one who could really appreciate the level of humiliation she would feel when royally fucked up whatever training he had in mind. "That's fine, I'm sure we'll be back," she said, her eyes flicking to her Guardians. "Last I heard you were working with Emma in DC, what happened?"

David's grin dimmed. "MRA happened," he muttered. "I lost my job and Emma barely kept hers. She wanted to help me, and help the mutant community, so she funded this."

"And to think you couldn't stand Emma at Xavier's," she teased and he laughed. Sideswipe coughed behind her and she jumped, suddenly remembering that they hadn't been introduced. "David, this is Silas and Sawyer. They're... friends of mine."

"Nice to meet you guys," David said, shaking their hands. 

"Likewise," Sunstreaker replied, covertly wiping his hand on his pants. "I believe we talked on the phone?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, his eyes flickering between Daphne and her Guardians. "I talked to the Professor and he explained your 'situation,' to an extent," he added, gesturing to the burns on her arms. She hid her arms self consciously behind her back and she could see Sideswipe glaring at David. Her friend blushed slightly and averted his eyes. "Uh, well, should we get started?"

"Yes, please," she said, breaking the silence. She fought against the dropping feeling in the pit of her stomach as David lead them to the sparring mats. Two men looked up when he walked over, and boy, did they look intimidating. Both towered over her, one appearing to have some metamorphosis powers, as black stone faded into his skin. She couldn't tell the power of the other man, but if she had to guess by the tattooed flames encircling his arms, he had some sort of pyrokinesis. 

_Oh god,_ she thought. _Not only is my ass going to be handed to me in front of a man I look up to, but my Guardians too. I guess I'll just die then._

"Daphne, this is Alex-" David introduced, gesturing to the man with metamorphosis. "-and Gabriel." Both men nodded at her and she waved awkwardly back. "They have kindly agreed to help train you today. For our first exercise-"

"First?" she exclaimed, remembering suddenly she was only in a crop top and a _skirt._

"-for our _first_ exercise, I want you, Daphne, to subdue them without touching them. Powers only," he instructed. 

"Okay," she nodded, rubbing her hands together. David stepped back to the side of the mat, gesturing for her Guardians to follow. Sideswipe looked slightly giddy, while Sunstreaker looked mildly concerned. 

Her opponents squared up, and as soon David whistled, they attacked. Gabriel, and she had guessed correctly, threw a fireball at her while Alex charged at her, his body turning into black stone. She quickly threw up a shield to deflect the fireball, drawing energy from the lights above them to send a blast of blue that sent Alex across the mat. 

Gabriel looked like he was going to throw another fireball, but she decided to pull a move she hadn't used in a while. She encased both men in boxes of energy, to the surprise of both. Remembering that David had asked her to subdue them, she started to pull their energy into herself. Their electromagnetic fields, their auras, flickered around them, Gabriel's red, Alex's a black, her own a black blue. The men immediately started to weaken in the boxes, Gabriel falling to his knees, Alex remaining on his back. 

Her own aura grew brighter and she felt more awake and alert as their energy incorporated into her own, flickering red, then black before returning to a bright blue. She could taste their energy on her tongue, pepper then licorice. 

(For a moment, she didn't want to stop taking. She felt her control over her powers slip for a second, enough for her to see a future where she drained them of their energy, her own powers increasing, climbing in the ranks of the Omegas. But, only for a moment.)

Once she drew enough energy that her opponents felt like they had run a marathon and wouldn't be up to fighting for an hour or so, she let the boxes faded away. She felt surprisingly good. And it had been relatively easy to subdue the two mutants. She remembered what Optimus had told her, to stop underestimating herself. She realized that she let her fear and anxiety had clouded her view of powers, despite the fact she held her ground against Megatron. 

Daphne turned to the three observes, smiling brightly, feeling her eyes shining. David was nodding, noting something in a notebook. Sideswipe looked even giddier, flashing her two thumbs up. Sunstreaker was smiling, and she could feel her heart skip a beat, looking at her with both approving and analytical eyes. 

"So," she said breathlessly. "What's next?"

(But, the whole day hadn't been a success. David, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker had all beaten her in hand to hand combat, and she had accidentally hit herself with one of her own blasts. But, she had fun. She had used her powers, hadn't made a fool of herself, and she had even forgiven Sideswipe for his dumbassery. And she even turned her paper in on time.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished finals and I'm officially a senior in college, woot woot.


	7. she'd sit and prophesize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl sneaks into a bar and celebrates Halloween.
> 
> CW: underage drinking and slight suggestive content. I do not condone underage drinking!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sideswipe gives off big himbo energy... thoughts?

"Wake up bitch!" Bryce shouted, jumping onto Daphne's bed. Persephone let out a disgruntled meow, giving the redhead a side-eye, curling up on a pillow. But, her owner wasn't so lucky. Daphne groaned, blinking sleepily to see her best friend's wide eyes in her face. She had been up late the previous night, working on pamphlets for the Young Democrats Club at her school, which she was the president of. 

"What do you want?" Daphne asked groggily, trying, but failing, to shove Bryce off of her. Bryce had her legs pinned, already in a full face of makeup, her bright red lips quirked into a grin. 

"It's Halloween, Daph! Did you suddenly go amnesiac on me?" her friend pouted. "It's the best night of the year, with the costumes we've been planning for months."

Daphne groaned, rubbing at her face. Bryce made a face at the day-old mascara that crusted under her eyes. "I didn't forget, I've been just so-"

"-busy," Bryce finished for her, frowning. "Don't tell me you're gonna bail on me. I was counting on you to bring your hot friends," she added, drawing out the s. 

She rolled her eyes, twisting so Bryce was now on the bed and off of her. "I'm not gonna bail," she scoffed. "I just wasn't planning on being woken up so early in the fucking morning after working my ass off last night."

Bryce quirked an eyebrow, reaching up and petting Persephone. "Daph, love, what time do you think it is?" she asked. 

"Uhh," she paused, squinting at her blinds, trying to see how much light was coming in. "Ten? Eleven?'

"Oh God," her friend said, propping her head upon her hand. "You really were working late, weren't yah? It's four in the afternoon, Sleeping Beauty."

Daphne sat up quickly, fumbling for her phone on her bedside table. "Fuck," she muttered, biting her lip. Her phone told her it was indeed 4:07 in the afternoon. She had no idea how she slept past the alarms she set for herself. She had four missed calls from Sideswipe, twelve texts, and even a Snapchat. ( _When the fuck did he get a Snapchat?_ she thought to herself in confusion.) But what made her stomach drop was a singular text from Sunstreaker, reading: _call me._ "Fuck!" she said again, a hint of panic in her voice. 

Bryce smirked. "We leave at seven, darling, with or without you," she called, standing up and prancing out the door. Daphne could still hear her cackle, and the ensuing laughter of her housemates, as she dialed Sunstreaker's number. She pressed the phone to her shoulder, grabbing a towel, and a pair of clean clothes and marching to the bathroom. 

" _Daphne,_ " Sunstreaker answered immediately, and she cringed at his dry tone. 

"Oh, hey, Sunny-"

" _For Pit's sake, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me Sunny? This is all your fault, Sides!_ "

"Oh, shut it, you know you love it, you brat," she snapped, setting the phone down on the counter and putting it on speaker. 

There was a pause, and she could hear Sides snickering in the background. " _I can still squish you, human_ ," he threatened. 

She scoffed. "Sure you can," she replied sarcastically. She hopped into the shower and winced slightly at the cold water. But, she had no time to waste, even with three hours until they left. "And then Ratchet would kill you and use you for spare parts."

" _Hey, don't threaten us with the Hatchet!_ " Sides butted in. " _That'd be like us threatening you with..._ "

"My grandmother," she supplied and started to lather her hair in shampoo. 

" _Yes, exactly, your grandmother. It's humane and-_ "

" _Shut up, Sides,"_ Sunstreaker said sharply, and even through the phone, she could feel his anger and worry. " _Why weren't you answering your phone? I thought humans your age were supposed to be attached to your phone._ "

 _Using sarcasm to deflect from his worry,_ she thought to herself. "I was asleep," she answered, watching the soap bubbles float down the drain. 

" _I didn't know humans were nocturnal. Are you sick, Daph?_ " Sides asked. 

"Nah," she reassured. "I was just up super late working on stuff for the Young Democrats cause the election is soon and I'm just super busy and tired. Besides, shouldn't you be able to tell I'm safe from the bond?" The Guardian bond intrigued her. Ratchet had tried to explain it to her back on base but he had gotten caught up in the mechanics of it. Basically, between Cybetronians, the Guardian bond worked as a telepathic bond between Guardian and charge, allowing them to communicate without the use of comms. But, he hadn't been entirely sure how it would transfer over to a Cybetronian and a human, or, in this case, a mutant. Ratchet had promised when she came back to base, he would have come up with a way to help her tap into Cybertronian energy. 

But, despite Ratchet's doubts that the Guardian bond would be tangible, Daphne and the twins weren't too sure. Sides swore if he concentrated enough, he could pick up an echo of her emotions and had devoted processing power to that very task. Sunstreaker didn't add too much to the conversation but had said the bond was doing its job. Daphne wasn't able yet to detect their emotions, or even see their EMF fields/auras, something that angered her to no end, but she was able to feel if they were nearby. 

" _That's not the point,_ " Sunny snapped and she blinked back into the present. She massaged conditioner onto her hair and begun the long journey of shaving her legs. " _The Decepticons know how to block any bond in existence. The point is you promised to check in at eleven, but you didn't._ "

" _We were worried,_ " Sides chimed in and he sounded sincere. " _We know you're tired, but if you tell us you're gonna check in at eleven, and then you don't, we get worried. It's our job to protect you. And we can't do that if we can't contact you._ "

Daphne let out a long sigh. While she could see where her Guardians were coming from, they were literally parked outside her apartment. If something took her, they would know. She sighed again. "Fine," she acquiesced. "I'll make sure my phone is always on. But, you bots gotta realize that humans sometimes sleep _way_ longer than they expect."

Sideswipe chuckled. " _Okay, we can deal with that, right, Sunny?_ "

The sigh Sunny let out was the kind of sigh Daphne would always let out after babysitting her younger cousins. " _Don't call me Sunny!_ " he exclaimed and in the background, she could hear the sound of a scuffle. " _And that's fine, Daphne, but stop being a dumbaft."_

"Whatever," she mumbled. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. "You guys will be here at 6:30, right? In costume?"

" _You bet,_ " Sides replied. " _But,"_ he hesitated slightly. " _Do we really have to wear costumes? We don't really like them that much._ "

She frowned, her toothbrush half in her mouth. "Yes, Sides-"

" _You called me Sides!_ "

"-you have to. It would be weird if you weren't in a costume. We're going to a Halloween party."

" _But they look sooo uncomfortable, Daph,_ " Sides whined. 

" _And it's frankly humiliating for somebot of our status,"_ Sunstreaker added haughtily. 

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Well, too bad _Sunny,_ you have to. You gotta act like humans and part of acting like humans are wearing a costume on Halloween. Besides," Daphne added, a wicked smile on her face. "Bryce is _so_ excited to see you tonight, you wouldn't want to disappoint her."

" _Hah! That squishy is gonna be over you all night, bro,"_ Sides cackled. Through the phone, she could hear what sounded like a slap, and then Sides whining. 

" _Goodbye, Daphne,_ " Sunstreaker said and ended a call. 

Daphne paused and cackled as well, imagine the night she was about to have. 

~~~

Daphne finished up her makeup, smiling at herself in the mirror. Last Halloween, her friends had dressed up as the Scooby Gang, but this year, they decided to choose a more extravagant theme. They each decided to dress up as a deity from Greek mythology. Bryce was Aphrodite, Alan was Poseidon, Chantel was Persephone, and Daphne decided to go as Nox, the goddess of the night. 

She had given herself a smokey eye, black to a midnight blue, with silver sparkles in the inner corner and a silver cat-eye. Her face was pale, chiseled out with dark contour, making her black lipstick pop. She painted tiny stars and constellations on her cheeks, neck, and collarbones. She had bought a crown made of stars from Etsy that she wore and put extra curls in her hair. She wore a tight black dress and blue heels, and, with the help of Alan, she had stuck tiny battery-powered lights through the fabric, giving the impression she was glowing. 

For once, she let her control over her power slip, allowing her magic to slip over her skin. Her magic seemed to get caught in her hair and cast a reflection onto her face, emphasizing the sharp angles of her face she had already carved out with makeup. Combined with the fairy lights, she looked simply ethereal. And, well, sexy, as her dress emphasized her curves well and her, uh, girls, were looking good too. 

It was almost six-thirty by the time she came out to the living room, a small silver cross-body bag slung across her shoulders. Alan let out a whistle, looking her compliment. He had spray-painted his hair a dark blue, carrying a trident in one hand. He wore a blue polo unbuttoned and had painted waves onto his chest. "Looking good, Daph! Or should I say, Nox," he added cheekily, pressing a kiss into her hair and handing her a Mike's. 

"Thanks, you too," she grinned. She looked over her other friends and gave them both thumbs up. Chantel wore a tight green dress with black fishnets underneath. She wore black lipstick and a smokey eye as well and had stuck flowers into her hair. But the best piece of her costume was the circlet she wore, which had a tiny skull in the middle. 

And Bryce looked as amazing as always. She wore an almost floor-length pink dress with a long slit and a v-neck that left nothing to the imagination. Tiny hearts covered her bright pink cheeks, her cheeks and collarbones covered in white and pink glitter. 

"Y'all, we look amazing!" Daphne exclaimed, holding up her drink. "Cheers!"

"Cheers bitches!" Bryce called. By her slight stumble when she clinked her drink, she had been drinking for some time. Daphne exchanged a grin with Chantel who raised an eyebrow, but they didn't say a word. "Shots!" she urged, and with a sigh, Daphne followed her friend to the kitchen.

"To the one day where we can dress however we want without being called sluts!" Chantel toasted, and the four of them threw back their shouts. Daphne grimaced slightly at the taste of cheap vodka but chased it with a swing from her Mike's. 

"When are your delectable friends gonna get here?" Alan asked, moving from the kitchen to lay on the couch. Chantel looked at their friend and joined him on the couch, muttering something about having to babysit. She giggled slightly at his dramatics and leaning against the counter. Bryce leaned against her in turn, pressing another shot into her hands. Daphne rolled her eyes, but took it, clinking it against Bryce's and throwing it back

She glanced at the clock. "Pretty soon," she said. As soon as she had said that, the doorbell rang. With that same sense of proximity she had puzzled over earlier, she knew it was her Guardians at the door. "Speak of the devil and the devil may appear!" she giggled, feeling her cheeks warm from the alcohol. She carefully leaned Bryce against the counter and made her way to the door. 

"Helloooo," she greeted, throwing the door open. Her Guardians blinked, looking at her, looking at each other, before looking at her again. She felt her cheeks warm even more as she took them in. To go along with their theme, she had given them costumes that she hoped they would look good in. And dear _God,_ did they. 

For Sideswipe, she had decided to dress him in all black, and make him Hades. He wore tight black jeans, and a button-down black shirt with skulls and bones on it. She had instructed him to ruffle his silver hair so it looked purposefully disheveled. And for Sunstreaker, she had wanted to go along with his zero bullshit attitude and made him Ares. She dressed him in the same black jeans as Sides, but had him wear a tight red shirt and lace-up combat boots. Despite the finishing touches she wanted to added, they both looked damn good. 

"Daph," Sides said cheerfully, in contrast to his appearance. "You, uh, look, well, different." Sunstreaker nodded his response, both of their eyes looking her up and down. 

"Well, that's the point, Silas," she replied, making sure to use his real name. "Come on in, I gotta add some finishing touches."

As soon as they walked in, Bryce decided now was a good time to start blasting their partying playlist. "Heya, boys," she purred, her eyes hyper-focused on Sunstreaker. Daphne rolled her eyes at her friend, Chantel, and Alan waving from the couch. 

She led them to the table, instructing them to sit, pulling the makeup she wanted to use from her purse. Sunstreaker eyed her makeup brushes distrustfully and she rolled her eyes again. "Big baby," she muttered, taking another swig from her Mike's. Sides eyed her drink curiously and she shook her head slightly, gesturing to her friends. He nodded in understanding and she started on his makeup first. 

"So, Silas, Sawyer, first Halloween in Berkeley?" Chantel asked and took a drink from her own beverage. 

Silas started to nod his head but Daphne gripped his chin firmly in her hands, frowning. He rolled his eyes but stayed still. "Yeah, we lived out of state last year," he explained, as Daphne pressed black eyeshadow onto one of his eyes. 

"We're not big fans of Halloween," Sunstreaker added dryly. 

"Sunny's just has a stick up his ass," she teased and took another drink. 

Chantel pounced on this, her eyes gleaming. "Oh, so you must like Daphne a lot then, to come to a Halloween party with her."

Daphne choked and Sides turned a bright red. "Oh, uh, no, not like that-" he stammered while his brother stayed silent, looking like he would rather be in Ratchet's clutches than in her living room. 

"They _totally_ like her," Alan added gleefully, his lips split into a wide grin. 

"Oh stop it you nosey bastards," she said, dismissing them with a hand. "Go take more shots," she added without any bite. They cackled but went to join Bryce in the kitchen, who was rapping along to Nicki Minaj. 

She turned back to Sides' face, laughing at his mortified face. "It's not funny," he grumbled. _It's funny that with holoforms as nice looking as yours, you'd be interested in a girl like me,_ she thought to herself. 

"We're your Guardians," Sunstreaker added, expressionless as he watched her friends make absolute fools of themselves. "It's our job to be _interested_ in you."

"I know," she replied softly, giving him a small smile despite the small twinge in her stomach. _Oh stop it,_ she chastised. _They're giant robots, and it could never work. And I'm obviously not interested._ "I'm not upset, but it is funny." She placed her makeup brush down and smudged it slightly. She had only put eyeshadow on one eye, giving the impression that he had a black (and silver) eye. 

She turned her attention to Sunstreaker. He sighed and Sides laughed. She did much of the same to Sunstreaker, pressing black to the outer corner of one eye and red in the inner corner. She added a line of red to his cheek to make it appear like he had a scratch. He sat stiffly the whole time while Sides went to join the others in the kitchen, the Autobot in disguise handling her friends well. 

Once she was done, she ruffled up Sunstreaker's hair who swatted her hand away. She laughed and downed the rest of her Mike's, walking to the kitchen. She took one last shot, reapplied her lipstick, and they were off to the club. 

"So, what were you drinking?" Sides asked as soon as she sat down in his passenger seat. Her housemates had taken Bryce's car, and when Daphne said she was going with Sides/Silas, Chantel had given her a wink. "Cause your body temperature is higher, your reflexes slower, and you're acting rather strange."

She laughed, leaning back into the smooth leather. She had never realized how smooth the seats were and rubbed her hand up and down the leather. (Was she drunk? Hmm, probably not. But, was she buzzed? Most definitely.) "Alchohol. It kinda like numbs your brain, I guess?" she said. "Some people act like kids, some giggle, some get angry or sad. But it's fun."

Sides raised an eyebrow, the streetlights reflecting off of the silver glitter. "We have something similar. What are you like when you drink?"

She hummed and let the feeling of bubbles in her head wash over her. "Giggly, free of my anxiety. I don't curse as much when I'm drunk, though," she adds, her head lolling to the side so she can smile at him. 

"Your laws say you're too young to drink or get into bars," Sunstreaker says through the radio and Daphne giggles. 

"I take that law to be a _guideline_ ," she intones and Sides smiles, his blue eyes glimmering. "And besides, I'm a telepath, remember? I'll just show the bouncer three pieces of cardboard and he wouldn't know the difference. I'll make sure all of us get into the club."

Sunstreaker snorts. "Sides, who knew that our charge would be a felon?" he says sarcastically.

"Makes our job more interesting, for sure," Sides replies and she giggles again. Her aura flickers in the dark car as her body processes the alcohol. In short, she was getting _more_ drunk by the minute and it felt good and her magic liked it. He looks at her curiously and she smiles at him, showing her teeth. His face softens and he reaches over to pat her on the arm. "You'll be okay tonight?" he asks.

She tilts her head in confusion. "What my brother meant was," Sunstreaker buts in. "Do we have to babysit you tonight and make sure no squishies get you?"

"No," she pouts, folding her arms. "This isn't my first rodeo. Besides, I got Bryce and Chantel and Alan and my magic!" she declares. 

"Sure," Sunstreaker replies dryly. "The red-headed female didn't seem to steady on her feet, the male not far behind her."

"I still have Chantel!" she reminds him, turning around in her seat to glare at his golden alt form through the rear window. Sides reaches over and corrects her, leaving a hand on her shoulder to make sure she didn't try anything as if she was a toddler. 

"Sunny, I don't think Daph has anything to worry about. She can take of herself. You, on the other hand, are gonna need some protection. The redhead looked like she wanted to ear you up," he remarks slyly. 

"Oh shut up, you glitch," Sunstreaker grumbles, and they arrive to the club laughing. 

They had no problem getting into the club, thanks to her. All she had to do was batter her eyelashes as she put an image into his mind of three, legal, California drivers' license. She and her friends strut in, her Guardians behind them. While she and her posses go straight to the bar to have a few shots before they start dancing, her Guardians stand at the back of the room. Sunstreaker looks miserable, which he'll probably pay her back for in training, and Sides looks amused, which he'll probably thank her for. 

The vodka burns down Daphne's throat as she makes her way to the dance floor. Her head is sufficiently fuzzy, her anxiety is muted, her face feels kinda numb but a good kind of numb and now she can't really feel the bite of her heels and it's perfect. 

She first dances with her friends. Bryce embodies Aphrodite and has all eyes on her, going off with a guy in the first few minutes. Alan is as smooth as water and goes off next and gives her a wink. Only she and Chantel are left, and they have a pack to never leave the other alone until they've found partners. Their partners come in the form of two best friends from out of town. Chantel goes off with the blonde one, and she is left with the brunette. 

"What's your name?" she shouts, pressed up against this stranger. He is warm and she is warm and he feels nice. He has long green eyes and is very tall and he has very nice hands and they feel very nice on her hips. 

He leans in, his eyes flashing. "Jake," he says into her neck and she shivers. Her magic flickers in response and it is his turn to shiver as it envelopes them. "I like your costume," he murmurs. 

"T-thanks," she stammers, closing her eyes and moves to the music. "My name's Daphne."

Her head is full of bees and they dance and make out for a long time. They go to the bar and he pays for her drink. He is even prettier in the light and is hand is now on her thigh. She sees her Guardians out of the corner of her and gives them a smile as she and John, Joseph, no, _Jake,_ go off. 

She returns feeling warm and satisfied and her magic is pulsing. Jake gives her one last kiss, before leaving for another club. He invites her to come with but she says no. She sees her friends in the crowd, moves towards them, but pauses. She has another shot at the bar and then walks over to Sides and Sunny. They are in the same spot with the same expression on their faces.

"Hiiii," she says, drawing out the i. No, she is not slurring her words because she is not that... Oh, her dress feels really nice against her skin. 

Sunny cocks his head when he looks at her, exchanges a look with Sides, and they both smirk. "You having fun there, squishy?"

"I am," she replies, leaning against Sides. He stiffens for a second but he is cool and she is very warm. " _Lots_ of fun." She looks up at them, peering through eyelashes that suddenly feel very heavy. Their eyes seem more blue and they seem more pretty and that is totally not fair. "Why aren't you guys having fun?"

Sides shrugs and she giggles as his shoulder moves under her head. "Having enough fun watching you have fun, Daph" he replies and she smiles into his shoulder. 

"And no offense, you humans are kinda gross, with your, ugh, _fluids_ ," Sunny adds and she giggles again. She lifts her head up, the room slightly spinning and turns to look at Sunny, bracing herself on Sides. 

"Why don't you guys come dance with me and we can have fun together," she offers, and Sunny scowls. Before he can say anything she presses her hand against his mouth and his eyes go wide. "Shh, you talk too much." He grumbles and rips her hand off while she pouts. 

"She got you there bro," Sides laughs. 

"How about you guys come dance and then we'll leave after a few songs," she says, and she is very proud that she can say all that without stumbling.

They exchange a glance. "You promise?" Sunny asks and she nods vigorously. "Okay, we'll go have 'fun' then," he says and he sounds very not happy about it. 

"Sunny is so desperate to get the pit out of here that he'll be by humans and their 'gross fluids'," Sides mocks and she giggles again. 

"Let's get this over with," Sunny sighs and she takes that as an all-clear to drag Sunny to the dance floor. Sides is very excited and he tells her likes human music a lot and oh, what a coincidence, she really likes human music a lot too!

She doesn't dance with them the way she danced with Jake because she is that drunk to cross the boundary, and Sunny would probably explode. Instead, they (she and Sides) jump up and down to the songs the DJ is playing while Sunny sways back and forth, scowling at anyone who comes near. 

It's the most fun she's had all night, especially when the club remix of her favorite song is played, until she kinda starts to feel pukey and runs to the bathroom. She thinks Sides comes in and gets her after a bit. She remembers wearily waving goodbye to her friends while one of her Guardians takes her to the parking lot. 

She falls asleep on the drive home, while her head is propped up against the open window, thinking how nice Sides and Sunny were and how lucky she was to have them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I am all done with my junior year! I can't believe I'm gonna be a senior ahaha. 
> 
> Any scenes you guys wanna see? Comment below and they'll probably be added in!


	8. and if the people stare, then, the people stare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl (and two Autobots) learn a thing or two.

Sideswipe was restless. He, his brother, and their charge had been sitting in this coffee shop for _vorns_ and he was very, very restless. His leg kept bouncing under the table and he kept glancing back and forth. 

"Knock it off," his brother grumbled, kicking him under the table. Sideswipe pouted but his brother ignored him. Unlike him, Sunny seemed pretty at peace, even among the humans. He leaned back in his chair and kept his attention on the book in front of him. Daphne had loaned him a book called _The Art of War,_ and he seemed to be enjoying himself. His brother's peaceful facade was in sharp contrast to Daphne and himself (had he mentioned how bored and restless he was yet). 

Daphne was hunched over what she called a laptop, typing away furiously. She was so focused that little sparks of blue would arc off of her harmlessly. She hadn't taken a break in over two hours and he was starting to get a little worried. Since Halloween two weeks ago (which he found incredibly charming and fun and wanted to go out again, to the chagrin of Sunny and the excitement of Daph), she had been busy nonstop. The light in her room wouldn't go out until the early hours of the morning and when he would pick her up for school, she looked even more tired than the night before. 

Looking at her now, his concerns felt validated. Sideswipe glanced over to his charge and felt his spark twinge. She had purple circles under her eyes, her hair was flat, and her skin pale. Sunstreaker had written off his concerns, saying he was behaving like a mech with a new sparkling, but by the way Sunny's eyes strayed from his book, Sideswipe could tell he was concerned too. 

_::Should we tell her to take a break?::_ Sideswipe asked over their bond. 

There was a pause when Streaker looked up again from his book to take in their charge again. His lips pursed when Daph didn't snap back with a witty comment like she normally did when they behaved like "mother hens" (her words, not his). _::I think we should,::_ he replied finally and his words were tinged with underlying worry. _::She doesn't look too good.::_ Sideswipe fought back the smile over his brother's protective side. Although Sideswipe interacted and conversed more with Daph, Sunny was the protective one, probably due to the fact Sides was more inclined to encourage mischief than his brother. 

_::She looks like slag,::_ Sideswipe said. 

_::That she does,::_ his twin agreed. There was an unspoken agreement that Sideswipe would be the one to intercede. Daph was more inclined to take Sideswipe's interruption as a sign of his bleeding heart (which he had), while an interruption from Sunny would cause much disagreement. 

He gently tapped Daph on the shoulder. She blinked owlishly up from him, plucking out earbuds from her ears (which caused Sunny to gag with disgust over the bond). Despite her run downstate, she looked rather adorable. Her eyes were big beneath her glasses (something that confused him to no end, like, why not trade in your eyes for new ones instead of wearing defective ones?), her forehead crinkled in confusion. 

"Hey," he smiled in greeting. "Though you were glitched for a second."

"Why?' she asked, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm just doing homework," she yawned. 

He and Sunny exchanged a glance, his brother putting his book down. "But you haven't taken a break in two hours," Sideswipe said in confusion. 

"He thought you were broken," Sunny added. 

"Not needed," he hissed in reply, before turning back on the sweet factor. "We were worried."

"He was worried," Streaker clarified and Sideswipe sighed deeply. 

Daphne watched their interaction, amuse. "I'm fine," she reassured, stretching. "I'm just very, very busy. This is normal."

"This is normal?" Sideswipe question incredulously. "We asked Bumblebee if Sam did this-"

"-meaning only getting four hours of sleep every night, constantly working, falling asleep at training sessions," Sunny interjected. 

"Right," Sideswipe nodded. "All of that. And Bee said it wasn't normal and Sam and Mikaela don't do what you're doing," he said, gesturing at the cups of coffee, notebooks, and schoolbooks surrounding her. 

"Your friends don't either," Streaker said. "So we can assume this not normal." His optics, eyes, whatever, were aimed directly at their charge. She cringed under his gaze, looking at the table. 

"When you look at it that way, I guess it doesn't look normal," she replied sheepishly, blushing slightly. "But, keep in mind, Sam's in high school, and I'm in college. It's a _whole_ different world," she paused and laughed. "Guess I should write a guide to the care and feeding of college students."

"That would be most helpful," Sideswipe said, giving her a bright smile. She blushed, and he added that to his list of things that made his charge adorable. _Number 63, she blushes when people smile at her,_ he mentally noted. 

"But you didn't answer the question," his brother crossed his arms. " _Why_ are you so busy that you can't take proper care of yourself? You're secreting, _fluids_ ," he sniffed. The look Daph gave Sunny was another entry into his list. _Number 64, she does not put up with my glitched brother._

"Well, smartass," she hissed, closing her laptop and taking off her glasses. "I'm trying to complete a four-year degree in two years," she started to count off on her fingers. "Finals are in three weeks and I have three big ass research papers due. I'm the presidents of the Young Democrats and the election just happened so there's a lot to deal with. I'm also having to rewrite my _whole_ after undergrad plans because no I'm not going to law school anymore because in the heat of the moment decided to become an alien ambassador. So, now I have to apply to online schools and I'm trying to get Sam Seaborn and Josh Lyman to write me letters of rec," she was up to five fingers and took a breath. "And not only do I have to do all this school stuff, but I also gotta train with you _and_ David."

She was out of breath by the time she finished and they exchanged a glance. They had known she was anxiety-prone from the beginning, but they hadn't seen this from her before. She was usually so composed and on top of things that they hadn't had to worry about anything except for her safety. Sideswipe felt guilt wash through him as he realized the pressure she was under and the fact he hadn't realized it. 

"You don't want to be the ambassador?" he asked gently. He put an arm around her shoulder and she seemed to deflate, melting into his embrace. At first, all the touching had been weird, but he had gotten used to it, and actually quite liked how warm and squishy, well, squishies were. Daph was especially warm, her magic seemingly radiating heat. 

"I do want to be the ambassador," she said softly. "It's just, well, my whole world was turned on its head in a matter of days, so it takes some time to adjust to the new normal."

"You're doing it well," Sunny said gruffly. "Adjusting that is," he clarified. Sideswipe smiled at the rare praise from his stern brother. 

She smiled at Sunny. "Thanks, that's good to hear. And I'm good, you guys don't need to be worried," she reassured. "Election aftermath will be done soon so I can cross that off. Sam and Josh finally replied after I reminded them that they owed me one," her smile grew when she mentioned the two human males. 

"You sure you're fine?" Sideswipe questioned, raising an eyebrow. Their charge looked tiny when she pressed against his holoform, and a surge of protectiveness rushed through the twin bond. She nodded. "Good, I just want you back to your normal, chirpy, cute squishy self."

Daph blushed, swatting at him and leaning back into her own chair. "Stop it, you flirt," she scolded. "You're making me blush, you scoundrel," she joked, pushing up the sleeves of her long-sleeved shirt and fanning herself. Her Allspark burns were on full display, but he felt no aversion to them. In his humble opinion, it added to her aesthetic as badaft mutant and a badaft Autobot ally who survived an encounter with the Allspark and lived to tell the tale. _Can't wait for old 'Screamer to see those and run away his tail between his legs,_ he thought gleefully. 

"I'm just telling the truth, sweetspark," he charmed, winking at her. She fake swooned and Sunny groaned.

"Primus, help me," he swore and the two laughed. 

Daph (he must find a better nickname for her. Ne? Nah. Ph? Totally no. Hmm, he'd have to get Sunny in on this to find anything good) got up, stretching. "I'm gonna go use the bathroom, but after, do you guys wanna go?" She glanced out the window, saw the night sky, and her expression grew sheepish. "Yeah, let's definitely go. Maybe head to the beach, take a break?"

"Sounds good to me," Sideswipe replied, smiling. His brother grunted his approval, already turning his attention back to his book. She returned the smile, heading off to the bathroom, looking far more relaxed than minutes prior. 

Once she left, a staff member approached them, looking sheepish. "Yes?" Sunstreaker asked, sounding bored. 

The human fidgeted and avoided eye contact. "Excuse me, sirs, uh, I have to ask you and your friend to leave," she said. "Your friend is, well, she's scaring other customers, and you guys needed to leave.

The twins stiffened and the atmosphere changed. "Excuse me?" Sideswipe asked, no amusement left in him. He saw his brother grip the table, his blue eyes narrowing. "You want us to leave because our friend is 'scaring' other customers?"

"Well, sir," she stammered, looking anywhere except at him. 

"You heard the young lady!" came a gruff voice from a table across the room. The shop grew quiet as a man wearing a red hat stood and stomped over to their table. "Your _mutie_ friend doesn't belong here and neither do you," he sneered. The staff member backed up nervously.

Sideswipe stood up slowly and could hear his brother in his head warning him to not doing anything rash. But, he was beyond logic. He was _pissed._ "Put Daph's stuff in her bag, Sunny," he said lowly, pushing his chair in roughly. The man stepped back, his eyes flickering nervously. "What the _Pit_ did you just say about her?" he asked and clenched his fists. 

The man cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I just called her what she is- _mutie_ ," he spat. "And her kind don't belong here, or anywhere else. They belong in fucking cages. They're not human."

Most bots would think Sunstreaker would be the one quick to throw the first punch, due to his famous temper. But Sunny had more control than Sideswipe ever would over his emotions. Sunny was like boiling water, simmering for a while before exploding into action. But Sides was all fire, quick to anger and quick to fight, especially when someone he loved was in danger. 

The only thing keeping him from killing the worthless male in front of him was the grip Sunny kept on his shoulder. "Keep your cool, Sides, he's not worth it," he muttered, his gaze as cold as ice. 

Sides let out a long breath, nodding. He walked forward and got in the man's face, the human shuffled up, his stupid cow eyes wide. "You ever say slag like that again, you puny excuse for life, I will-"

"Sides?" Daph called. He whipped around to see his charge, his tiny, mutant, human charge, standing in the middle of the room, frozen. Her wide eyes looked between himself and the human male, her arms wrapped around herself protectively. "W-what's going on?"

The human male seemed to get a second wind, pushing away from Sides and walking angrily towards Daphne. Sunny placed himself in between the man and their charge, his hand resting on Daphne's side. "You can hide behind these race traitors all you want, mutie," he sneered. "But you can't hide who you fucking are- inhuman." He reached over Sunny's shoulder and grabbed her hair, pulling it hard. 

Daphne cried out and Sideswipe ripped the man away, pushing him away. "Get her out of here, Sunny," he ordered, pushing his brother and his charge out of the door. He could hear muffled sobs and his brother's low pitched voice and his angered raged. He looked around at the silent patrons, sitting in their chairs, watching the whole thing and he was angry. "And none of you did anything," he seethed. "You did nothing!"

~~~

His charge was silent, sitting passively in the passenger seat of his alt mode. Sunstreaker kept glancing over at her and his fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel. She had cried for the first ten minutes, loud, spark grinding sobs, but had stopped abruptly. She was looking forward, the wind from the open window rippling through her hair. Her _hair._

He could feel the anger of his brother over the bond, see him rev angrily through the rearview mirror. Sunstreaker didn't blame Sides for feeling angry, Pit, he was beyond angry. He was angry at himself for letting the man even touch Daphne. He looked over at guiltily and tried to erase the image out of his head of the man with strands of blue hair in his fist. Sideswipe grew even angrier as that image was projected over the bond. 

Sunstreaker hadn't realized the level of hatred mutants received until now. He had read the briefings Jazz had put together, seen the way Daphne made herself small in public, seen the way she would push her sleeves down in public if someone was staring at her scars for too long, seen the way she avoided eye contact so no one could see how her eyes glowed in a way only a mutant could. 

He made himself promise that would be kinder in the future, be more understanding, as he pulled off of the highway and onto the beach. Daphne seemed to snap out of her trance, blinking at her surroundings. A week ago, they had driven by this beach at night, watched the waves glow with bioluminescence. She had remarked that she wished to come back, and Sideswipe made him promise that they would.

He could feel Sideswipe start to cool down as Daph stepped of his alt mode. The beach was deserted, so they both transformed. He internally sighed as sand started to get into his gears, cursing the planet they were on. 

Sideswipe knelt down by their charge, his hand cupping her back, his blue eyes serious. Sunstreaker remained standing, enjoying the stretch that came with being in his root form. "Are you okay, Blue?" his brother asked, one finger stroking her blue hair. 

_::Blue?::_ Sunstreaker asked through the bond, raising a faceplate.

 _::Shut up,::_ he snarked and Sunstreaker chose to ignore the feelings of _embarrassment-affection-worry_ that went through the bond. 

She shrugged. "Fine," she mumbled. That was the second clue that Daphne was clearly not okay. The first was the lack of gawking when they transformed, the second being a one-word reply, instead of a witty one. 

Sides glanced up at him and Streaker knelt with a sigh. "We're sorry we didn't protect you," he murmured softly. "That man didn't know what he was saying."

Her head snapped up, her eyes blazing. "No, he knew _exactly_ what he was saying," she hissed. "He was repeating what the Republican establishment has said for the four decades tp try and justify whatever oppressive legislation they dreamed of. I hear that kind of shit every single _fucking_ day!" she yelled, tears forming in her eyes. He leaned back as her magic flared around her but Sides remained, his faceplates serious and sympathetic. " _This_ is why I tried to stop being a mutant for a year. To avoid shit like this! But I never fucking could," she choked, sobbing. 

His spark broke. Their poor charge. Faced with a world that hated and feared her because she was a mutant. He couldn't imagine what would happen when people found out ( _When she finds out,_ he thought guiltily to himself) she had the power of the Allspark, an alien artifact that wasn't even close to being human. 

Sides gathered her in his hands, bringing her close to his spark. "Let's go home," he said softly, glancing over at him. 

"Let's go home," he agreed. _Where I can keep you safe,_ he promised to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a shorter chapter. With how the world is right now... I hope to put up another chapter this week with more action in it. And one last thing- Black lives matter.


	9. well i wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl gets to do her job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder on who is in the Bartlet administration:  
> Jed Bartlet, President  
> Leo McGeary, Chief of Staff  
> Josh Lyman, Deputy Chief of Staff  
> Toby Ziegler, Communications Director  
> Sam Seaborne, Deputy Communications Director  
> CJ Cregg, Press Secretary

When Daphne had told her mom she wasn't coming home for Thanksgiving, she sounded as if Daphne had told her she was moving to Panama and never coming back. As much as she loved her mom, Christiana Winters, she clung to the idea that Daphne was still a little girl and not an independent woman who had her own plans and obligations. Her _nai nai_ hadn't been any better, calling her and scolding her. But, both her mother and _nai nai_ eventually gave in, with the latter promising to send her _bao zi_ in the mail. 

While her mom and _nai nai_ could be overbearing, her dad never was and that's why she preferred his company. David Winters was tall, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes and a bright smile. He was laidback and loving and never tried to guilt her into coming home when she didn't want to. When she went to Xavier's after her powers manifested at the age of twelve, he had called her every day, sending her books in the mail, and made sure she knew that she was still loved. Her mom and _nai nai_ hadn't talked to her much that first year, riddled with the guilt of sending Daphne to New York. But, her dad had known that Xavier's was the safest place for her. 

She would miss seeing her family at Thanksgiving, especially her dad. When she told him she wouldn't be coming home, he was sad, but understood. She had told her family she'd be spending Thanksgiving with Bryce in New Orleans (which, honestly sounded a lot better than spending the break in a half-built military base in the middle of nowhere Nevada). When she had been on FaceTime with her dad, Sides had wandered in, and she swore to God her dad's eyes narrowed on Sides half-dressed, admittedly, well, sexy, form like a hawk. She had faced thirty minutes worth of interrogation before he let her go. 

Now, she was on the way to the Autobot's new base to have her first official meeting as the Autobot ambassador and to spend time with friends. The new base was located near the location of her Guardians' planetfall, outside of the town of Jasper, Nevada. It was an abandoned, decommissioned military base from the Cold War that was perfect for the Autobots. Part of it was aboveground, mostly offices, and part underground, with cavers large enough for the Autobots and enough space for NEST forces. It was so far out there that no one would pay attention to military drills or the occasional meteor shower. 

Right before they started their ten-hour drive to Nevada, Optimus had informed her that the President wished to talk with her as soon as she was on base. Bartlet, and the generals, wanted to go over some points of the treaty, including weapons sharing. The Autobot leader had added, with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, that the President added that members of his senior staff were excited to see her. She was ecstatic to start her job, but less excited about having to change _inside_ one of her Guardians.

It was decided she would change inside Sunstreaker (she shuddered at how weird that sounded), because even though they were two different species, neither of them trusted Sides to not sneak a peek. It had been incredibly uncomfortable. His holoform had closed his eyes, but she knew he could sense and see everything going on inside of his alt mode. The air had felt cool on her bare skin as she reluctantly stripped off her comfy travel clothes and into her stuffy business clothes, this time including a matching black and white suite set with a black turtleneck underneath it.

To her embarrassment, she kept glancing at Sunny's holoform. It was totally unfair how handsome he and Sides were as humans. Totally unfair. But she couldn't stop looking at how the afternoon sun that set his brown skin aglow, making his freckles stand out. When she had finished changing, her cheeks had been on fire, and she couldn't tell him why. 

When they finally go to the Autobot base in the early evening, she watched in amazement as Sunny drove through what looked like rock and they entered a large cavern. Tunnels led to different caverns, and she could see what looked like Ironhide cleaning his cannon. Soldiers rushed around them, looking slightly nervous when they neared an Autobot, and she could hear the sounds of construction. 

Stepping out of Sunny's golden alt mode, she was immediately swept into a hug. "Daphne!" Mikaela yelled and the mutant in question stumbled back slightly. Despite the younger girl's frosty exterior, she was as sweet as chocolate and desperately looking for someone to look up to. They had exchanged numbers back at Mission City and hadn't stopped texting since. 

"Hey, Kaela," she greeted warmly, returning the embrace. She waved to Sam, who stood awkwardly to the side, and Bumblebee, who enthusiastically returned the wave.

"I missed you so much! Sam's great, but, honestly, friends are better than boyfriends," Mikaela said conspiratorially. Daphne grinned at her, mouthing to Bee that he owed her.

"Hey, I take offense to that," Sam huffed, crossing his arms, and the two women laughed. Above them, she could hear the sounds of a 'Bot transforming and turned slightly to watch her Guardians transforming. 

She never grew tired of watching them transform. "Wow," she whispered. 

"Wow is right," Mikaela whispered back.

Sunstreaker's transformation sequence was fast, each move precisely timed to not only be quick, but to best show off his paint job. Sideswipe was all fluidity and grace, the silver of his armor glinting in the light as he transformed in one smooth motion. His owl-like helm immediately swiveled towards Daphne, his blue optics spotting her. 

"Time to go, Blue," Sideswipe said, kneeling down and offering her a palm. When he was met with twin pouts, he rolled his optics. "You got time later to gossip later. Big Bot said he wanted me and Sunny-"

"Stop calling me Sunny!"

"-to bring you into Command so you can talk to the President," he finished, oblivious to the glare Sunny was sending him. 

She gave Kaela a light kiss on the forehead, which she could reach in the heels she was wearing, sent another wave in Sam's and Bee's directions, and stepped into Sides' palm. Although she hadn't spent much time around their root forms, she had complete trust that Sides wouldn't drop her. Well, she had complete trust that Sunny would catch her if Sides dropped her. 

As soon as her foot touched Sides' palm, he cradled her to his chest, one of his fingers stroking her back like you would a scared animal. Sunny watched his brother nervously and she cracked a smile. As much as Sunny wanted to be seen as the stern, emotionless Autobot frontliner, he was the mother hen to Sides' lack of common sense. After that one night at the coffeeshop, she had felt closer to her Guardians, and they seemed to feel the same. Sunny seemed overall more relaxed and Sides more talkative.

"I'm fine, Sunny," she reassured and the aforementioned Autobot rolled his eyes.

"I'm not worried," he muttered, letting Sides take the lead. 

She exchanged an amused glance with Sides as he walked towards one of the tunnels. The soldiers below them ran to the sides and from their loud thoughts, she could tell they were both scared for her safety and scared they would be crushed. But, Sides was being careful, his optics either on her or the soldiers below. 

_Thank God I'm not scared of heights,_ she thought to herself as she peered over Sides' fingers. Sunny made a noise of concern behind them and she reluctantly retreated to the relative safety of Sides' palm. 

Sides carried her into another large cavern, this one with large monitor screens, desks, raised platforms, and a sense of importance to it. Optimus and Jazz stood in the middle of the room and she could see Lennox too. 

"Howdy there, sweetspark," Jazz called out. "Glad to see you got here in one piece."

"Hi, Jazz!" she called, wobbling slightly as she stood up on Sides' palm. _I hope I'm not flashing anyone,_ she thought bemusedly to herself. Lennox raised a hand and she waved back. He stood on one of the raised platforms, high enough that he was at the eye level of Optimus, a large monitor behind him. 

Sides walked them over to Optimus and the Autobot leader nodded at her, his blue optics kind. Her Guardian carefully placed her on the platform and Sunny let out a sound of relief. Lennox steadied her as her heel caught on the platform and she flashed him a grateful smile. "Daphne," Optimus rumbled, gently stroking her arm with a long, metal finger. "It is great to see you again."

"What are we, chopped liver Boss Bot?" Sides snarked and Sunny smacked him. 

"Sideswipe," the golden Autobot hissed before saluting Optimus. "Apologies on behalf of my brother, Prime, he knows not what he says."

Optimus chuckled, setting a hand on each twins' shoulder. Each relaxed under his touch and Sides seemed to straighten. "At ease, soldier," he replied. "It is great to see you both as well. My continued thanks for looking after our dear Daphne," he said, inclining his helm towards her. 

Daphne blushed and Lennox grumbled. "Why do you get all the special treatment?" he asked, bumping her on the shoulder. 

She rolled her eyes. "C'mon, _Commander_ Lennox," she emphasized and it was his turn to blush. "Ironhide likes you and that's all the special treatment you get."

"That is a miracle," he agreed. "So," he clapped his hands, drawing the 'Bots attention toward them. "We ready, boss?"

Optimus nodded. "You are welcome to stay, if you like," he said to the twins. They had similar looks of surprise on their faceplates and she chuckled. Both of her Guardians had made it known to her their hatred of paperwork and bureaucratic work. She wondered if Optimus had assigned them to her on purpose, as some sort of punishment of way of forcing them to group up a bit. But, Optimus was too kind for that. 

"Sir, if you don't mind, I think my brother and I will decline your kind offer," Sunstreaker said hesitantly, both of them looking as if they wanted to run out of the room.

"Get on out of here," Jazz said, making a shooing motion with his servos. "Shoo." They didn't need to hear another word and the bolted out of the cavern. She rolled her eyes and two remaining Autobots chuckled. 

"Fire up the call," Lennox ordered and she fidgeted next to him.

This was her first official meeting as the Autobot-ambassador-but-not-really. She wouldn't really be the ambassador for another two and a half years, after the trial period ordered by the NEST treaty. While she, and everyone at NEST (including the new soldiers who had been brought onto base who had nodded their heads as if she was in charge which had been _freaky_ ), was acting as if she was already the ambassador, in the eyes of the U.S. government, she was here as a courtesy. From her communication with the Bartlet administration (which mostly included her harassing Sam and Josh for letters of recommendation and sending CJ emails every time she said a real zinger during a briefing), she knew the President did not feel that way, but much of the higherups in Defense did. 

"You'll be fine," Lennox whispered to her, the older man clapping her on the back. She sent him a nervous smile as Optimus and Jazz took up positions behind them. With a jolt, she realized she and Lennox would be the face of this conversation, with the way the monitor was placed. 

"I sure hope so, or I won't have a job after graduation," she whispered back and he let out a chuckle.

The monitor flared to life before them, separated into two quadrants. On the left, was the President in the Oval Office, with Leo McGeary, the Chief of Staff, standing behind him. On the right, was what she assumed was the Situation Room. She recognized General Morshower, Secretary of Defense John Keller, and also recognized General Fitzwallace, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, from the news. She was slightly confused by the setup, by the fact the President wasn't in the Situation Room but kept her face blank. 

"Good evening, everyone," Bartlet said, steepling his hands in front of him. 

"Good evening, Mr. President," she murmured, echoing everyone else on the call. 

"Ms. Winters, would you mind reintroducing everyone on your end? For those who weren't at Hoover, Ms. Daphne Winters is the presumed Autobot ambassador to the United States, along with an Autobot who has not yet made planetfall. She is on this call as a trusted aide to the Autobot leader. Ms. Winters," he finished and she gave the camera a shaky smile. 

"Thank you, Mr. President," she replied, smoothing down her blazer. "Besides me is Commander Will Lennox, who commands the forces at the NEST base in Jasper. Behind me is Jazz, third in command of Autobot forces," Jazz raised a silver servo, his blue optics flashing behind his visor. She kept a careful eye on the reactions of those in the Situation Room, noticing only a few displays of discomfort from those lower in command. "And this Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots."

"Greetings," Optimus said and moved closer to the raised platform. "As Daphne said, my designation is Optimus Prime. This meeting was called by Lennox, myself, and your President, in regards to concerns raised by your military regarding the Hoover Treaty."

"Yes," Secretary Keller chimed in, shooting a glance at General Morshower. "We believe-"

"Our defense," Bartlet corrected and she could see the look of exasperation on the Secretary's face. 

"Yes, our military," he conceded, and Fitzwallace sent him a glare. "We believe it would be beneficial to amend the treaty to give our military access to your weapons and technology, for national security purposes."

" _Absolutely_ not," Daphne shot back. Her eyes widened at the words that came out of her mouth and her heart started to beat quicker. She glanced up at Optimus, looking for permission to continue and he nodded, a look of amusement on his face. "The Autobots have made it clear that their weapons are not to fall into human hands, and they would cause way more harm than good. And look at the implication of these weapons on the international level. Not only would there be outrage if it was to leak that the Autobots gave you access to their weapons, impeding any treaties the Autobots may seek with other countries and giving the United States an unfair advantage over other countries. Additionally, imagine the implications if terrorist cells got their hands on their weapons. Purifiers, ISIS, etc. You will not lay a single finger on Autobot weapons."

Lennox shot her a thumbs up out of view of the monitor and she could feel the approving rumbles behind her. Keller leaned forward in his chair, his expression annoyed. "Listen here, young lady," he started, waving a finger at her. "We have given you leeway, but you just stepped out of line. You're not an ambassador, yet." She could hear the silent threat in his words: _if you stand in our way, you won't be an ambassador._ She started to bristle, her cheeks growing hot. 

"Keller," Bartlet snapped and the Secretary's face went pale. "Ms. Winters was appointed with my approval, and she may speak when she wishes. _You're_ out of line." Behind him, Leo couldn't hold back a smirk. "Now, Lennox, Prime, how do you feel?"

"I agree with Daphne, one-hundred percent, sir," Lennox said quickly. From his thoughts, she could tell he was uncomfortable with the level of discontent between Bartlet and defense, and she made a note to talk to him about it later. "The weapons we have have been proven to work, like in Mission City or in Qatar."

Optimus made a rumble of agreement. "My position on the subject is similar," he stated. "Daphne was correct. We will not share any of our weapons with you," he finalized and she could see the military higher-ups deflate, all except Fitzwallace who looked relieved. She couldn't hold back her smiled and crossed her arms.

"Good, we're in agreement," Bartlet said, rubbing at his eyes. "Anything else?"

The meeting went on for another thirty minutes or so, with Lennox giving a report on how the base was coming along and Jazz reporting on any signs of Decepticons. Both she and Optimus stayed silent mostly, along with Bartlet. 

The meeting ended, with the camera cutting out in the Sit Room, but the President and Leo remained on the call. She exchanged a confused glance with Lennox and Optimus chuckled behind her. Jazz motioned at Lennox and the soldier headed down. 

"Great, you're still on," Bartlet said, relaxing. "I had to get Charlie to figure out how to end the call, blasted technology," she giggled and the President sent her a kind smile. "Leo, can you go get the kids?" Leo nodded, stepping out of frame. "Now, young lady, do you understand the ruckus you've caused amongst my senior staff?"

"Uh, no sir," she replied, but could picture the irate looks on Sam and Josh's faces from her hounding them with emails.

"Well, you should know they're acting as if you're the newest girl in school. I never hear the end of it from Josh. Or Sam or CJ for that matter," he corrected himself. 

"That may be my fault, sir," she smiled. "I kind sent Sam and Josh, like, twenty emails asking for letters of rec for online law schools? And I'm a communications minor so I send CJ an email whenever she says a real zinger, so that's like every day. I can stop, though, if it's bothering you," she added quickly. 

"No, please don't. It's quite funny seeing them fight over who's gotten the most emails," he replied and she chuckled. He looked up and gestured. "Speak of the devil and the devil may appear."

There was a sound of shuffling in the background and the faces of the senior staff appeared. Daphne smiled brightly and waved. "Daphne!" Josh greeted, bending over at the waist to ensure his face was in view of the camera. CJ rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in the background, leaning against a window. "How did the application to Harvard go?"

"Okay, they were kinda confused why I was applying to the online program and the in-person program," she replied. "My application to Stanford went a lot better, though."

Both Josh and Sam sniffed at the mention of Stanford. "Well, Harvard is a better law school," Sam said. He looked rather dashing, wearing a nice gray suit with a blue tie. Toby lurked in the background. "I wish you were able to attend in-person. Some of my old profs were pretty excited about you when I told them."

She blushed, leaning against the metal railing of the platform. She heard Optimus shift behind her. "Ah, shucks Sam, thanks," she said. 

"You totally deserve it though," Sam added, sending her a wink that made her cheeks even pinker. 

CJ grumbled and pushed Josh out of the way so she was in view. Bartlet looked rather exasperated by their antics, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. "Move it, boys, it's my turn," she said, turning her attention to Daphne. "Your comm class going well?"

She let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, but Dr. Ingrid, excuse my French, sir-" she said, gesturing towards the President. "-is kind of a dick."

They all chuckled and Bartlet sent her a thumbs up. "Good old Berkely," CJ reminisced. "Are there still weekly Friday protests?"

"Oh yeah," she answered, laughing slightly. "Young Democrats held a big rally the Friday before the election, and Mutant X holds protests every Friday until the MRA is repealed. I've started going and I'm helping to plan the rally for February First." February First was the celebration of February First, 1992 when the United States government formally recognized mutants as citizens. _Xavier vs the State of New York_ was handed down that day, when the Professor sued New York for violating the constitutional rights of mutants, including the rights of free speech and assembly, religion, and voting, the latter being what prompted the Professor to sue. The Supreme Court ruled that the fourteenth amendment did, in fact, include mutants in its definition of citizens. A few years later, the Professor opened the Xavier Institute. 

Bartlet shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the MRA. Behind him, Toby and Leo exchanged a meaningful glance. Before things could get awkward, Optimus interrupted. "Pardon my interruption, but I have just been informed by my third in command that the newest Autobots have just made planetfall."

Daphne turned around and gaped at him. "Wait, what?"

The Autobot leader looked rather sheepish. "Ah, yes. Your Guardians informed you would most likely enjoy the surprise, but from the look on your face, I am assuming they led me astray."

"Yeah, they did," she muttered, turning back to the monitor. Bartlet looked rather amused. "My apologies, Mr. President, but it seems we have to cut this short."

"No problem," he replied, smiling. "Go do your job."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm not entirely sure which law schools actually have full-fledged online programs (Google was very unhelpful) so I just made it up. Any guesses on the new Autobots??


	10. to live by your side is such a heavenly way to be alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl meets new friends and new powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the later update! I'm working four days a week and studying for the LSAT, so I am tired! But never fear, I'll try and get new chapters out every week to week and a half. I've got big plans. 
> 
> Inspired by my favorite author ShySpider, I'll be putting a slight continuation in the end notes, so make sure to read it!

There were five new Autobots on base, with six more still in space, and Daphne was given the honor of welcoming them to Earth and gaining their signatures on the NEST treaty. Prowl was the first to sign, the stern, stoic second in command. He was mostly white with gray and black detailing, his alt form a police car. He had door wings like Bumblebee that twitched when Optimus had introduced her. Jazz had sent him a look that she couldn't understand and Prowl had managed to greet her politely. His holoform had been the blandest she had seen, looking like every cop who had ever pulled her over.

The second was Bluestreak, and despite his name, there wasn't a splash of blue on him. He was gray with red detailing on his arms and upper legs, and he too had door wings as well. Bluestreak had excitedly told her that he was a sharpshooter, and once he opened his mouth, he had just kept talking. She had quickly realized why he was named Bluestreak. When he had activated his holoform for the first time, she was shocked to see he was her age, maybe younger. But he was _tall,_ despite being an average height in his root form. In his holoform, his hair was the same color as his optics, and he looked to be of Irish descent, with a splattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. 

Then came Bulkhead, Hot Rod and Arcee. They all seemed to be around Bumbleebee and the twins' age, and it had been a happy reunion among them. Bulkhead was, well, _bulky,_ but, despite his size, he was kind, sweet, and a little shy. He was a dark green and transformed into a Jeep. His holoform was African American and wore his hair in braids, with green braided in. Hot Rod was bright red and didn't talk to her much, haughtier than even Sunstreaker. So, she didn't really pay attention to him. And Arcee. Arcee was a _she._ Her Guardians had been amused by her shock when Daphne realized Arcee was female. Arcee was shorter than the other mechs, a dark blue with rose gold detailing, but she gave off an intimidating aura. Her holoform was beautiful, looking to be Korean, with ombre hair, that faded from a navy blue to light pink. 

It had been nice seeing new faces and the novelty of the new Bots cooled her irritation with their constant questioning. She had been asked several times by several different Bots if she was actually human, and she had reassured them that, yes, she was actually human despite the weird EMF reading she gave off. Sunstreaker had been ready to throw a punch when Hot Rod said-

_"If she's not really human, then she's not covered by the treaty, right? So I can step on her without any consequence?"_

_"You step on her, I'll tear you to pieces, you slagger._ "

Prowl had to intervene before someone ended up in Ratchet's medic bay, where she was currently sitting. Even though it was the next morning, she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face when she remembered how Hot Rod had cowered under Prowl's gaze and the sound of Sideswipe's chuckle. 

"What's so funny?" Ratchet rumbled, raising a faceplate. He had cornered her after all the newbies had settled in last night with a slightly manic look on his face. He had announced that he thought he had found a way to help her see the Autobots' EMF fields ( _Auras,_ she had corrected, and he had waved a hand dismissively). _You just need to tune your radio to another station,_ he told her excitedly, so here she sat. Somehow, word had spread around base that Ratchet was expecting a light show out of her, so people were loitering outside in the large cavern adjacent to the medical bay.

She exchanged a glance with Sides, who knew exactly what she was talking about and he tried to suppress his smile. Her Guardians and Autobot command, Optimus, Jazz, and now Prowl, were the only people permitted in the bay. "Oh, nothing," she replied, glancing in Prowl's direction. "I just really admire Prowl's leadership skills."

The Bots guffawed while the mech in question remained stoic. "Much thanks, Daphne," he rumbled, inclining his head in her direction. "I do not hesitate to reprimand my soldiers for blatant disrespect of a trusted and respected ally." 

Despite his awkward formalness, she found herself smiling. "Thanks, Prowl, I appreciate it. I'm too small to really do anything," she joked. 

"Not for long," Ratchet mumbled, attaching electrodes to her forehead and chest. She sent him a quizzical look, but he remained focused on his work. 

"That's why you have Sunny-"

"Primus help me, it's _Sun_ streaker, finish the word, you daft glitch."

"-and I, Blue," he finished, sending her a flirtatious wink. Last night, Bluestreak had been delighted at the fact she had been given the same nickname. Sides looked like he was having a stroke and Sunny looked like the cat who caught the canary. So, Sides decided to call her Lil Blue and Bluestreak Big Blue if they were ever in the same room. _Or you could just call them by their names,_ Sunny had remarked grumpily but had been ignored by all parties involved.

Optimus looked amused, his optics flashing. "Is everything ready, Ratchet?'

The medic paused, looking away from his monitor. He looked her over and she could feel the slight tickling sensation that came with being scanned. "Yes, I believe so."

Despite her trust in Ratchet, she could feel her palms sweating. In her head, she could hear the horror stories told her by other mutants, of being kidnapped late at night, of bright lights and dark gray cells, of the burning sensation of being cut open and stitched up, over and over again before they were dumped back on the streets. The medic's optics flashed back to his monitor, frowning, clearly seeing her heartbeat speed up. "You still haven't told us what you're doing, Doc," she swallowed. 

"Ah, yes," he said, seeming a bit flustered. He reset his vocalizer and squared his shoulders, looking as if he was getting ready to fight some Decepticons. "Well, I want to shock you."

The bay fell silent and her Guardians seem to freeze. "Old friend, I do not think I heard you right," Optimus tilted his head. "You wish to shock Daphne? With electricity?"

"You're gonna fry her like a fish, Doc," Jazz chimed in her, his optics hard behind his visor. "Not on my watch."

"Not on our watch!" Sides said angrily while Sunny scowled at the medic in question. Prowl stayed silent.

And what about the human in question? The one the Hatchet wanted to shock with _fucking_ electricity? Well, she was in shock, her mouth hung open and her mind racing. _He's lost it,_ she thought to herself. 

Ratchet held up a hand. "It's not as bad as it seems. Keep your wits about you, mechs. Do you seriously think I'd put Daphne at risk?"

"Well," Sides started, but Ratchet cut him off. 

The medic turned to her, looking the perfect portrait of patience. "Daphne," he said calmly, giving her a slight smile. "I believe I could have chosen my words better, hm?" he asked and she slowly nodded. "Good. What I wish to do is slightly shock you with some of my spark energy, the closest energy we have to Allspark energy. I believe once your mutation comes into contact with spark energy, it will metabolize and mirror it, and, hopefully, you'll be able to see our EMF fields, perhaps even use Autobot comms."

" _Spark_ energy?" Sunstreaker explodes and she winces at the loud noise. "Are you _fragging_ kidding me?"

"Silence!" Ratchet booms and she slaps her hands over her ears. The cavern adjacent to the medical bay grows silent and concerned human and Autobot faces peak in. He turns his attention back on her. "Do you understand, dear one? I would never try anything that would have the potentiality to harm you."

Daphne swallows once. Twice. "I, uh, think I understand," she says slowly, her mouth dry. 

"And do you wish to proceed?" Optimus asks seriously. "You do not have to."

"No, I'll do it." Both of her Guardians open their mouths to object but she silences them with a look. "I've been exposed to a lot worse, and a lot more of it," she adds. Unpleasant memories spring up, of missions long past and dangerous times. 

"Good," Ratchet replies happily, completely ignoring the last half of her sentence. Sides looks like someone kicked her his puppy while Sunny looks like he wants to kill Ratchet. Daphne sends them another look, trying to convey that she'll be fine, that nothing will happen, that Ratchet won't let anything happen to her. 

But she can't entirely convince herself that she'll be safe.

Ratchet spares his monitor before adjusting the electrodes on her chest. He gently squeezes her shoulder once and places a large metal cube on the bed beside her. "Contained within this cube is a fragment of my spark energy. All you have to do is hover your hand above it and it will open, allowing for you to place your hand inside. Are you ready, dear one?"

She swallows again and slowly nods. She stands up, swaying slightly, walking to the cube. It radiates heat and oddly reminds her of the Allspark. Her skin prickles, her magic murmuring, and her scars start to itch slightly as she brings a hand up. Ratchet hovers over her expectantly and she can hear the soft whirring of his systems. 

Daphne hesitates above the cube, before shrugging, muttering "Fuck it," under her breath and plunging both of her hands toward the top of the cube. It opens up just as Ratchet told her, closing around her arms. She doesn't feel anything at first, only warmth, and what she could only describe as an itchy sweater being dragged across her arms. Then her scars start to burn, and she can feel her hair start to stand up by itself like an electric shock, feel her magic crackle across her skin and then-

_Zap!_

_Phewp!_

She jerks her hands out of the cube, swearing. Her ears are ringing and her vision is kind of blurry, but she's fine, and she can, can _feel_ someone, someones ( _red_ , and then _bright, blinding gold,_ followed by _smooth, shimmering silver_ ) near her (like at Xavier's when she let her control of her telepathy slip and she was laying facedown in the grass but she could feel everyone around, feel the vibrant flickering colors of their auras), but she holds up a hand, waving them off. She sits on the cold metal of the bed, and the world is kind of spinning and her ears are still ringing but her vision isn't blurry anymore and she squeezes her eyes shut. 

She feels her magic pulsing around, flowing around her skin like water. It settles around her forearms, cooling the irritated skin of her zig-zag, lightning burns. She feels like she just touched the Allspark, in a way, feel the flickering, lingering, minuscule reminder of what it felt to be _infinite._

The world starts to slow around her, and although she can hear now, she ignores the voices around her. She cocks her head. _Something_ feels different, besides the feeling of energy brushing against her skin that isn't hers. She cocks her head again, pressing a hand to her heart. 

She feels her heartbeat, and... what feels like Morse code being tapped on her the inside of her clavicle. Two sets of tapping, thrumming, throbbing, flickering, under her skin. And if she concentrates, closes her eyes, energy lights up the black of her eyelids, two strings, one gold, one silver, humming, connecting her to...

She doesn't even need to think of who this connects her to. She can feel it. And if she reaches out a mental hand, and _pluck_ the silver string, she can feel of a wave of _confusion, worry_ then _delight, happiness, joy, wholeness._ The gold is much more muted, full of _loyalty, satisfaction, finality, wholeness._

Daphne opens her eyes and feels fine, staring at the mechs who are crowded around her. 

(She actually feels better than fine, she feels more whole, like a puzzle that was left without a piece and is now completed. Her magic is humming and the _bond,_ the bond between her and her Guardians feels more real, more right than anything she's felt before.)

Her Guardians stare back at her, for once looking like twins, wearing the same expression of relief mixed with joy. "The bond!" Sides explains in delight and she suddenly feels his mental presence, almost as strong as when Xavier makes himself known. She feels Sunny as well and the thrumming in her chest seems to quicken.

She grins at him and Ratchet looks on with smug satisfaction. "I think we can call that a success," he states, carefully pulling the electrodes off of her. His EMF field, aura, whatever, brushes against her, full of red expertise, knowledge, and smugness. She notes the slight change when he notices her own aura, the small pulse of satisfaction. 

Jazz's is speckled gray and white and black, kept close to his person. He gives her a grin and a nod, elbowing Prowl, who is pure white, and they both send a pulse of welcome. Optimus' aura fills the room, a royal blue, spilling over the boundaries of the med bay and into the adjacent cavern. His kind, but strong, and cloaked as well, but she can feel the warmth of it as it presses into her. 

"Well," Ratchet claps, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Let's see what you can do, dear one. You don't mind putting on a show?" he asked, nodding towards the adjacent cavern. Bumblebee peaks into the bay and she gives him a sly thumbs up. 

"Fine by me," she replies, standing up and stretching. As soon as the sentence leaves her mouth, she is scooped up by Sides. She lets out a sound of surprise as a wave of vertigo goes through her. 

The silver mech holds her close to his chest, close to his spark, she realizes. One of the extra heartbeats thrums in content as he cradles her. "Had us scared there, Blue," he says, walking her outside. 

Even though she can't feel Sunny, she can feel the suppressed worry go through him. "I'm fine," she insists. She smiles up at her Guardian who is already looking down at her. His blue optics are serious, intense. He blinks and the intensity is gone and he holds her closer to his chest.

Sides placed her carefully on the ground and she is immediately swarmed by Mikaela and Sam. Lennox, Epps, and the other Autobots hang back, but she can tell they're listening in. She is slightly overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the other Bots' EMF fields and sways slightly. "Are you okay? We were worried when we heard Ratchet yelling," Mikaela asks in concern, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

"Fine," Daphne replies, blinking and regaining her balance. She practices the technique the Professor had taught her back at school, to pull a mental curtain over her eyes, allowing only a silver of auras to be seen. She feels immediate relief and her shoulders relax. "Just a little off-center, but I feel fine. Great, even. I think I can put on a good show for y'all."

Epps cheers and high fives Lennox next to him and Kaela rolls her eyes. Sam looks quite excited. "Oh, hell yeah!" Epps exclaims. "Shit was getting too boring here."

"We're building a base, Epps," Lennox replies, frowning. 

"Exactly," his friend states, slapping him on the shoulder. Daphne rolls her eyes but smiles anyway. 

"Are you sure you're fine, Daph?" Bluestreak asks in concern, the younger Autobot kneeling down in front of her. "Because if you're not that totally fine and we could go on a drive or I could tell you more about Cybertron or-"

"I'm fine, Big Blue," she interrupts kindly, patting him on the helm. Bluestreak melts slightly and she can feel Sunny's slight irritation through the bond. 

"Good!" Epps buts in. "I'm ready for a good show, kid. We ready, Doc Bot?" Lennox sends her an apologetic look but she answers it with an amused smile. 

"Yes," Ratchet nods. He shoos the human soldiers and Autobots back, and they form a large circle around her. Ironhide allows Lennox to sit on top of his shoulders, and she sees Bluestreak do the same, but with two blonde soldiers who look like brothers. They send her identical flirtatious smiles and she looks away as she starts to blush. 

Once Ratchet backed the crowd away, she was left with her two Guardians. He paused, his systems whirring as he examines the three of them. "Right," he mumbles, pulling Sunny with him into the circle and leaving her with Sides. "Daphne, I want to see if you can subdue Sideswipe."

She sends the medic a look that is both fearful and entirely confused. "Uh, I don't know about that, Doc," she answers slowly. She is scared for two reasons. The first being she's gonna make an absolute fool out of herself in front of at least fifty people and Sides is gonna sweep the floor with her. And the second being she's gonna hurt Sides or someone else. Whenever she metabolizes a new form of energy for the first time, her power goes a little haywire. She can feel it flickering around her, as if it can sense her fear. 

"It'll be fine," he reassures her, but she doesn't feel entirely reassured as Ratchet gestures the human soldiers to stand behind him. "Whenever you two or ready."

Sideswipe looks excited and she can feel the sickly fear of Sunstreaker through the bond. "C'mon, Lil Blue, are you scared?" he taunts, shaking himself out like a human boxer getting ready for a fight. "That you might be squished?"

He knows exactly how to push her buttons and she can't feel him through the bond. Her magic materializes around her and hardens around her skin, a living suit of metal. It feels slightly different, more material than immaterial compared to when she last used it at Mission City. Sides looks delighted. He looks even more delighted he fires the first shot at her. 

The crowd murmurs in shock as the blast hits her dead on and she stumbles back. She knew he going easy because if that had been live, she would have been blown through the wall. Her suit hums as she takes the energy from the blast and throw it back at him. 

"You can do better than that," he says as he dodges the blast. He lunges at her and she skids out of the way. He's right, she can do better. She hasn't tried this on a Cybetronian before, but now is the time to try something new. 

She raises a hand to the lights above and one cracks out as she throws the energy back at him. It hits him on the arm and he stumbles slightly. She pulls energy from the electricity humming underneath them and forms a long whip, cracking it across his legs and he falls to the ground. He tries to stand but her magic forms a shimmering net around his shoulders.

(She tries not to pull any energy from herself because then she gets tired and feels like she's gonna drop. If she's not careful, she could burn up. In reality, she's less of a superhero and more of a leech). 

"Sunstreaker, go help your brother," she hears Ratchet says. 

Now's the time to try something new, even though she's terrified she might kill Sideswipe. Her net tightens around her silver Guardian and she pulls energy from him. He immediately stops fighting and slumps to the ground as his strength pours into her. She can take more from him than she could take from a human or a mutant and her vision flashes silver and her magic shimmers and silver starts to overtake the blue and she stops. (He tastes like mint ice scream and campfire smoke.)

She can feel Sunny behind her, not through their bond, but through the twin bond she gets through Sides' aura. It feels instinctual as she twists around and presses her hands together. A cannon forms like the one on Sides' arm and Sunny's optics widen as she blasts him into Prowl who is pushed back several yards as he catches her golden Guardian. 

"Oh," she breathes in the quiet cavern, allowing Sides' energy to trickle back to him. He sits up slowly behind her and her suit flickers and collapses into silver smoke. All eyes are on her and she's not even breathing hard and she feels that sense of wholeness again. Something seems to break and warmth goes through her and she feels infinite again. 

She feels twin emotions of _pride, concern, amazement, awe, trepidation._

Ratchet's optics are wide. "Well," he exhales. "I guess that was a success." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet presses a hand to his helm and wonders if Primus has cursed him. "Daphne must wear this at all times," he says through gritted teeth. He holds the black ring out in front of him as if it's a commendation from Prime himself.
> 
> "But, why?" Sideswipe presses while his twin, like always, frowns beside him. 
> 
> "Because she's seen an increase in powers and the Decepticons might find her!" he yells. "Are you deaf or stupid?"
> 
> The silver twin pouts and the gold one elbows his twin. "We understand," Sunstreaker replies, ignoring Ratchet's other comment. 
> 
> "Good," Ratchet growls. "Now go do your job."


	11. girl afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl gets scared.
> 
> (Remember to read the end-notes!)

Today was December 21st. 

Today was Daphne Winter's 20th birthday

The morning had started off well. She had been woken up by Persephone purring on her chest and her parents, and her _nai nai_ through FaceTime, singing her happy birthday. Her dad had gifted her some books she had been asking for, her mom surprised her with paying for her haircut later in the day, and her _nai nai_ had sent along some Chinese treats and a new pair of rainboots. 

She didn't feel much older, didn't feel any wiser. Looking at herself in the mirror after she had gotten dressed, wearing the new boots her _nai nai_ had sent, she had thought maybe, just maybe, she looked a little older than she had last year.

Sideswipe, posing as Bryce's car she was letting Daphne borrow for Christmas break, had taken her to her hairdresser. Her hair was way longer than she would normally let it grow, brushing the tops of her shoulders, but she had been too busy with finals and Autobots and training to find time to go get her haircut. So, she had waited until she went home to Seattle for break, despite the fact she desperately wanted her hair short.

Her hairdresser, Angela, was a friend of her mom's, who had supported her the summer she came back from Xavier's, with long hair that was blue on top then abruptly black on the bottom. It was Angela who had handled her teary-eyed, twelve-year-old self when she came to get her haircut after getting bullied by neighborhood kids. And it was Angela who told Daphne she was beautiful, after all the black hair had been cut off, and all that remained was blue hair to the bottom of her chin.

"Hmm," Angela remarked, frowning at her head. 

"What?" Daphne asked, raising an eyebrow. "My hair changed colors or something?" she asked jokingly. 

"Well, actually," the older woman started and smiled slightly. 

"Are you serious?" she blurted out, shifting in her seat. She tilted her head toward the mirror, pressing her hair down so she could see the roots. "Well, no shit," she muttered. The hair growing in was more of a royal, Egyptian blue, compared to the electric, turquoise blue color of the rest of her hair. It was a subtle change, but _change._

She had mentioned it to Sides when she reluctantly sat in the driver's seat, her hair freshly cut. "My hair's changing colors," she mentioned, as he pulled out of the parking spot. A guy gawked as they drove by, surprised to see such a young girl in nice, silver Ferrari. 

"Really?" he asked through the radio. She felt the prickle of a scan and then a hint of surprise through the bond. "Primus, your hair _is_ changing. You afraid squishy males won't like you anymore?" he teased. 

"Shut up," she hissed, kicking at the console. 

After her haircut, she hung out with some friends from Xavier's who lived in the area. And when she said friends, she really went two. Two people. Blink, the daughter of immigrants from the Bahamas with deep purple skin and the ability to teleport, and Sofia, aka Wind Dancer, a young woman from Venezuela who can control air particles. She realized, in the moment, when Sides started to chuckle, that it seemed bad. That she only had two friends in her hometown. But she went to school in New York starting at the age of twelve with mutants from all over the country. Frankly, she was lucky that there was anyone she was friends with in the area. 

It was nice seeing Blink and Sofia. She hadn't seen either of them since she had graduated two years prior. They were younger than her, and would graduate this year. They hadn't been super close friends when they were in school, Sofia hung out with her boyfriend and Blink was constantly in detention for going off campus without permission, but it was _nice_ seeing people who reminded her, honestly, of _home_. They filled her in with the latest gossip, complemented her new haircut and new car (Sides wouldn't let her hear the last of it afterward), and updated her on their lives. 

"You know," Blink started, exchanging a glance with Sofia. "Hope misses you. Everyone at school misses you."

Daphne's smile disappeared and she felt her heart sink. After the... _incident,_ which led to Hope getting hurt and Daphne deciding to no longer use her powers, they still talked, but not as much they used to, and something felt icy between them. But, God, did she miss Hope, miss Xavier's, miss being surrounded by other mutants and her friends. "Yeah," she said softly. "I miss her too."

The memory of Hope kinda killed the mood, and Daphne and Sides left soon after. He took her to Chinatown where they met up with Sunstreaker, who was incredibly disgruntled with the fact he was surrounded by "dirty humans who would scratch his paint" and the rain that was coming down. 

"It's so wet," Sunny whined. 

Daphne rolled her eyes. "It's fucking Seattle, what did you expect? But at least I get to break in my new rain boots," she added, tapping him with her pink rainboot. He jumped away as quick her cat did when she got water and he actually _hissed._

She took them to her favorite _dim sum_ spot, a Chinese grocery store, and Tsue Chong to get unfortunate fortune cookies. Sideswipe decided to see if his holoform could eat food, which ended with him bent over a trash can, a frantic call to Ratchet, and their trip cut short.

 _All in all, pretty good birthday,_ she thought to herself as she got ready for bed. She cursed under her breath when the ring Ratchet had gifted her for Thanksgiving slipped off of her finger. She quickly grabbed it before she lost it and headed towards her bedroom. Her dad came in and gave her a kiss on her forehead like she was five again. Persephone jumped up on the bed next to her with a thump, curling up beside her and purring loudly. 

~~~

Daphne was woken up around one in the morning by tapping on her window. "Daphne!" she heard Sunstreaker hiss. "Wake up, _now._ "

She hummed, pulling her blankets around her and covering her eyes with her hands. "Sunny, it's too late, go back to sleep," she muttered. The next thing she knew, her blankets were ripped off of her by Sunny's holoform. She flinched back and blinked up at him. "What the hell was that for?" she whispered-yelled. 

His eyes were blazing and there was an expression on his face she didn't recognize. "Put some warm clothes on, quickly," he ordered. She blearily did what she was told, pulling on a pair sweats over her sleep shorts and bundling herself up in a sweatshirt and a jacket he held out for her. Through the bond, she could feel worry, fear, anger, and a hint of excitement.

"What's wrong?" she yawned. 

"Decepticons," he replied, holding out a pair running shoes. She froze as his holoform disappeared and his root form opened up the window to her room. She shivered and stared up at him mutely. His maneuvered his servo into her room and held his palm out flat. "We need to go now, Daphne. We want to lead them away from your family and the city."

"Okay," she breathed. She slipped the shoes on and grabbed her phone, stepping onto his outstretched palm. His face was serious as he carefully brought her down from her room to the ground below. Sideswipe was already transformed, his silver paint gleaming under the moonlight. 

"Get in," she heard Sunny say and she blinked and saw he too was transformed. The driver's side door was opened and as soon as she got in, Sunny peeled out of the driveway. Her head hit the headrest as he tires skidded from the transition from gravel to pavement. She could hear the angry growl of Sides' engine behind them and she gripped the 'oh-shit' handle. 

"Sunny, what's going on?" she whispered, feeling scared and confused and tired. She felt like her head was underwater, that she was sleepwalking. Her heart was slamming against her chest, her palms sweaty, her burns itchy under her sweatshirt. What if the Decepticons found her family when they were looking for her? What if her family was killed? What if Seattle was turned into another Mission City?

She could taste metal and blood and her anxiety was getting the best of her. Her ears started to ring and her vision started to turn black around the edges. Her mind was racing and her mouth was dry and her magic crackled around her fingers. The seatbelt tightened around her and the heater was turned on full blast. "Shhh, Blue," she could hear Sides say through the radio. She didn't even realize she was crying until she felt the tears on her cheeks and she didn't know why she was crying. "Breathe."

She sucked in a harsh breath that burned her lungs. She could feel the comforting presence of Sideswipe in her mind, the hues of warm sliver, the comforting flash of gray, and the steady hum of gold behind him. "I-I uh, I'm sorry," she blubbered, wiping at her tears. She focused on the road in front of her as Sunny raced out of the suburbs she lived on and onto I-5. "I-I don't know why I started to cry."

"It's fine," Sunny said gruffly and the seatbelt tightened again. "Just don't get any fluids on my interior." Daphne let out a shaky laugh, wrapping her arms around the seatbelt. She hadn't had a panic attack in a while, not since the past spring semester when a Tinder date took her out to the middle of the woods and she thought she was going to die. Panic attacks sucked. They hit her out of the blue when she was unprepared for a situation and it was too much for her to handle. Last time, it took all three of her friends, Persephone, and _To All the Boys I Loved Before_ to calm her down. 

But, she felt herself return to earth as the comforting mental presences of her Guardians pressed against her, turning the purple panic into silvers and grays and golds and yellows."You good?" Sides asked through the radio. 

"Yeah," she nodded, breathing in deeply. "S-sometimes I just, well, I just get too overwhelmed when I'm surprised by a situation."

"We'll need you to be brave, Daphne," Sunstreaker said, taking the exit onto I-5 North. His engine hummed as his speedometer raced over a hundred and she could feel his underlying tension. 

"I understand," she replied. "I'm feeling better," she added honestly, and she was. Her heart rate had returned to normal and all that remained was a shakiness in her hands and the taste of adrenaline in her mouth. 

"Good," Sunny said. "Because we picked up three Decepticons signals in the area."

"We woke you up as soon as we checked with NEST," Sides chimed in and she glanced in the rearview mirror to see the silver Ferrari close behind them. "Bluestreak and Arcee and coming up from NEST and are gonna do a sweep of the West Coast."

"Seems like a long drive," she remarked, resting her head against the seatbelt. Sunny squeezed her again and she felt herself smiling despite the circumstances. 

"It sure is," Sunny said darkly. In the five minutes they had been on I-5, she already saw exit signs for Redmond. She glanced at the speedometer again and she saw it was over two hundred miles an hour. "We didn't want them to find your family or get into Seattle, so we're going to lead them on a little bit of a chase." She could feel that hint of excitement from him again, the anticipation of battle. 

"How did they find us?" she asked. 

There was a pause, and she could feel that prickle in the air that now came whenever the Autobots used their private comms. She still hadn't been able to use the comm but she could tell when they used them. "You know that ring Ratchet gave you?" Sunny asked slowly. 

"Oh, this?" she asked in surprise, holding up the hand that the black ring sat on. 

"Of course that, you dummy," Sides teased. "Well, it's a jamming device."

"Way to be blunt, dumbaft," Sunny hissed and she could feel his anger spike. 

"A jamming device?" she repeated, twisting the ring around her ring finger. _Well, that would explain why they told me to never take it off,_ she thought to herself, silently cursing her naivety. 

"Yeah-"

"Let me handle this, cause your words aren't right," Sunny cut off Sides. 

"Ah, you're so mean to me," her silver Guardian whined. 

"Oh, shut up, will you! This is serious," Sunny exploded, static coming through the radio. She glanced at the radio, and she could feel hurt radiating from Sides. "Yes, it's a jamming device. When you wear it, your field cannot be seen by Autobot sensors. Your EMF readings are too unique and are probably known by any Decepticons who have made planetfall. Did you take it off at all today?"

"Well, shit," she cursed, hitting herself in the head. "It fell off after I shower."

"That explains it," Sides said quietly. She felt a surge of guilt go through her. "It's not your fault though, Daph," he added and she felt a wave of affection for her sensitive Guardian. "We should have told you what was up."

"I understand, you probably didn't want to scare me," she replied. She glanced out the window and saw her surroundings fly by. "Where are we going, Sunny?"

"Why does she get to call you Sunny?" Sides piped up bravely. 

"Oh, shut up," Sunny growled and she smiled. "Well, I'm not entirely sure. Somewhere wooded and uninhabited. We're trying to lead the 'Cons to someplace where we'd cause the least amount of damage."

"Got it," she said, looking at the exit signs that zipped by. "If you go straight through Everett, you'll reach the Tulalip rez. There are lots of woods and not a lot of people."

"Noted," Sunny said and she could feel him pick up speed. In the silence, she could feel the exhaustion start to hit her. After panic attacks, she often felt like she had just run a 5k. And it's because her body felt like it did. She could feel herself trembling as she leaned back in the seat and she shivered slightly. When she started getting panic attacks after getting her powers (which only happened for three years, then returned after the Incident with Hope and the Friends of Humanity), Jean Grey, her biology teacher and mentor, taught her about the body's response during a panic attack. 

The body is sent into the fight or flight response, adrenaline is released, blood pressure is increased, blood is pumped to the legs and arms, breathing is accelerated and the heart beats faster. When the attack is over and adrenaline is out of the system, the body starts to feel fatigued, nauseous, and shaky. 

As much as she would love to eat a pound of unfortunate fortune cookies and sleep until noon, it seemed that destiny had other plans. 

She was ripped out her thoughts by Sideswipe shouting over the radio. "Streaker, 'Cons are on our tail, three miles back, but getting closer," he said and she could hear his engine rev. 

"Slag," Sunny swore. "Hold on, Daphne," he warned and the seatbelt tightened around her, pressing her into the seat. He slammed on the breaks and skidded onto the nearest exit ramp. Her head swam as she heard Sides' tires screech behind her. 

"Oh!" she got out, locking her hands onto the steering wheel. Sunny didn't slow down, paying no attention to the traffic lights as he raced through the intersection. She didn't quite recognize where they where, somewhere between Everett and Tulalip, maybe, but Sunny seemed to know where he was going. He tore down residential streets until they reached a small forest. He slowed down slightly, driving into the forest until he couldn't anymore. 

"Get out," he said sharply, throwing open the driver's side door. Sides screeched to a stop behind them. She scrambled out as her Guardians around her, jumping when Sunny slammed down to one knee, his optics narrowed. "Listen, Daphne," he said urgently, as Sideswipe kept guard behind them. 

"Seven minutes," Sides warned, his left arm transforming into a cannon, balancing on his wheel-pedes. 

Sunny acknowledged Sides with a nod, turning his attention back to her. "I need you to do two things for me, okay, Daphne?" his tone offered no room for compromise and she nodded. Her legs still felt wobbly from her panic attack and she could feel the trembles increase in her hands as her fight or flight was triggered again. "First, can you create an EMP?"

"Knock out any cameras or satellites in the area," Sides clarified, keeping one optic trained on the forest behind them. "Six."

She licked suddenly dry lips. "Ah, yes, I think so," she said, stumbling slightly over her words. 

"Do it," Sunny ordered. She complied, her magic awakening with a rush around her. The sun wasn't out, eliminating her primary source of energy, and she wasn't going to draw any energy from her Guardians, nor did she have enough energy herself to do the task. So, she went the more difficult route, drawing energy deep from the ground beneath, from the Earth's molten core and the electro-magnetic field it created. This type of energy was pure, leaving a taste of ozone in her mouth and her aura flared around her, energy flaring in her hands.

When she had enough, she closed her eyes, she threw out her hands, letting her energy spread in every direction. She felt the slight hiss every time her pulse she hit something electronic until they were in a dead zone that stretched in five miles in every direction. 

"Five," she heard Sides say as she opened her eyes to see a pleased looking mech in front of her.

"Good," Sunny rumbled. "Now, I need you to go hide."

She tilted her head in confusion, the Samurai looking mech serious. "Are you serious? I could help!" she protested. "I took you and Sides down."

"Perhaps," he conceded. "But we weren't fighting you as if you were a weapon. And we would be too worried about you to fight properly."

"Besides," Sideswipe added and she looked over at her Guardian to see him looking uncharacteristically somber. She had noticed in the shift in the both of them. Their speech was more proper, sounding like Optimus or Ratchet, or when Jazz got serious. "You are too precious to us. To the Autobots. You must be protected at all costs. Four."

"Sides is right," Sunstreaker said and ran a gentle finger down her spine. She could feel his worry and protective nature over the bond. "You are our charge. We are your Guardians. We are supposed to protect you. We have faith in your abilities, but now is not the time to test them."

"Alright," she said reluctantly, her eyes flickering to the dark forest in front of them. 

"Three."

"I'm glad you understand, _ah lan_ ," Sunstreaker replied and she gaped at the sudden use of the endearment. It roughly translated to dear, or precious, lotus/flower. Only her grandmother called her that. His handsome faceplates gave nothing away as he stood. "Now, go. Run. Hide. Do not use your powers and do not come out until we get you. Okay?"

She nodded, backing up towards the forest as he joined his brother, his left arm turning into a cannon, the other a sword. Sideswipe's helm swiveled and he gave her a wide smile. "Don't worry about us, Blue. We'll be fine. I'll give you a piece of the 'Cons as a late birthday present."

Daphne returned the smile, and with one last look at her Guardians, she sprinted into the dark forest.

~~~

Sideswipe could feel Daphne disappear on his sensors as she disappeared until the inky darkness behind him. It went against every fiber of his Guardian program to let his charge out his sight, but he comforted himself by the warm blue pulsing on the other side of the bond. He turned his attention to his brother. 

_::Two,::_ he said other their twin bond. He could feel Starscream circle above them as the Decepticon Seeker waited until his ground soldiers got closer. Did Ol' Screamer really think he could get the jump on Sides and Sunny? He and his brothers were the best frontliners either side had ever seen. They had even gotten some good hits on Megs when was still online and kicking. 

He noted his brother's displeasure as the two other Decepticons registered on their sensors. _::Blight and Barricade,::_ he sniffed, his faceplates contouring. _::I despise Barricade. Offlining him will be a pleasure.::_

The twins had a special hatred for Barricade in their sparks ( _Blight? Who cares. Just another slagger who will meet Primus by my cannon._ ) It was because of their deep respect for Prowl, who, besides Optimus and Ratchet (which was respect out of fear so it doesn't really count), was the only mech they listened to _(Does Daph now count as one the mechs we listen to?_ _Nah_ ). Barricade had painted himself a mockery of Prowl's Enforcer paint job, and they had been told he had continued that practice here on Earth. 

_One._

He could feel his spark thrum in excitement as he heard the sounds of the 'Cons drawing closer. _::You ready for this Sunny? We haven't seen any action in a while,::_ he crowed over the bond. 

_::Shut it, slagger. Be serious for once in your life,_ _::_ his brother growled. Sides glanced over at his brother, seeing his optics glow a white blue, his systems humming. He knew he looked and sounded the same, and he allowed his faceplates quirked into a smile. 

He was Sideswipe. His brother was Sunstreaker. They were made for war. Their spark craved the silence of the battlefield. Their frames were at home in violence.

He leaned back on his wheels as his internal rimer reached zero. Starscream plummeted from the sky in front of them. In front of them, a cop car and a military hummer skidded to a stop in front of them. His cannon started humming as the 'Cons transformed in front of him. 

Starscream looked as ridiculous as always and he told him so. "Lookin' pretty beat up there, 'Screamer? Has leadership not been kind to you?" he mocked. For once, Sunstreaker didn't try to stop him. His brother knew what he was trying to do. Optimus had ordered them to not engage first. But, their Guardian protocols (and their underlying Berserker protocols) instructed them to eliminate any threat. So, he was going to goad the 'Cons into making the first move.

The Seeker snarled. "Silence, Youngling, _you_ are talking to the _leader_ of the Decepticons." Ah, he had forgotten how crazy Starscream was, and how crazy he sounded.

Sideswipe scoffed, raising a faceplate. "Oh, really, _you're_ the leader? I've seen non-sentients with better leadership qualities than you. Like Barricade over there," he jerked his helm towards the 'Con. Barricade sneered at him, his wounds from Mission City still fresh. Blight looked as dumb as a rock.

"Listen here, you _insolent_ piece of _slag_ ," Starscream hissed, striding up to him. Sunstreaker stiffened at his side, but Sideswipe was not afraid, no, he was _excited._ The Seeker was only taller than him by a foot, but if he puffed himself enough, he could look him in the optics. "We only came here to _talk,_ but if you're going to behave like _that, I_ will have to-"

"Have to what?" Sunstreaker interjected cooly, pointed his sword at 'Screamer's neck. Oh, how Sideswipe _loved_ his brother.

The Seeker's optics widened. "How _dare_ you!" he yelled. "Draw a weapon on the _leader_ of Decepticons? This means _war._ "

Sideswipe exchanged a glance with his brother. "Finally," he rolled his eyes and sucker-punched Starscream right in the faceplates.

He stumbled back as Blight and Barricade stood behind him, unmoving. "Don't just _stand_ there! _Attack!_ " And like good little soldiers, they did so.

They must have talked over comms, because Dummy 1 and Dummy 2 went after Sunstreaker and Ol' Screamer himself went after Sideswipe (must be for 'honor' or something, if Decepticons have any honor at all). "You are _mine,_ you little _slagger_."

"Nah, you're mine, you glitch," Sides replied, sending a cannon pulse his way that the 'Con dodged.

Through the twin bond, Sides could tell his brother was fine. Sunny was the more aggressive one, so he let him have the fun this time with the two-on-one (' _wow Sides, was that innuendo?' You bet your aft it was!_ ).

Starscream sent a round his way that he easily _sidestepped_ ( _Get it? It's a pun!_ ). "C'mon, you hunk of junk, you gotta give me something better than that," he taunted, stalking after him in the woods.

The Seeker hid behind a tree and sent a series of shots his way. _I hope Daphne is far enough away,_ he thought quickly, sending a cannon pulse Starscream's way that blew up the tree he was hiding behind. 

The Seeker scrambled back on all fours, quickly getting up as Sides' right servo turned into a sword. He shot at him again, but Sides sliced the round in half in what humans would call 'super cool Ninja moves.' Sides rushed forward on his wheels, catching Starscream by surprise. He sliced at Starscream's leg, and sent a shot through 'Screamer's wing. 

The 'Con keened in pain as he was blasted backward. Behind them, through the bond, he could feel Sunstreaker send a shot through Barricade's sparkchamber, but leaving him open for Blight's shot to his shoulder. His brother grunted in pain as he stumbled backward, then onto the ground as Blight shoved Barricade's corpse at him ( _Ewwww disgusting! Dead 'Con!_ ). 

"Sunny!" Sideswipe shouted, watching as Blight took off for the woods behind him. He spared the wounded Seeker a glance. "Go," he snarled and Starscream took off, running off jerkily as he took off into the sky. He knew he should have offlined him, but his _brother_ was hurt. 

He moved toward his brother, pushing the heap of junk that used to be Barricade off of him. He offered his brother a servo, which he willingly took, Sunstreaker wincing. "You good?" Sideswipe asked and he was met with a pained nod. "Where did Blight go?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he heard a human scream and bright yellow fear go through their Guardian/charge bond. "Daphne!" they yelled as one, charging into the woods. 

"Ah, a squishy," they heard the 'Con mutter, but they were still too far away to see anything. 

"Get the _fuck_ away from me!" Daphne screamed, and they saw blue flash in the distance. "I'm only going to warn you once, you piece of shit!" They could feel her fear and it made them move any faster. Her heart was beating out of their sparkchambers and they could taste ozone, feel her magic. 

They skidded into a clearing to see Blight towering over their small, fragile, squishy, easily killed, human charge. Her whole body was alight with blue magic and it was pouring off of her, crawling up the 'Con. 

But, she wasn't in danger? Blight was stumbling back in fear. She was encased in blue armor, and her eyes seemed to be on fire, the white blue, that reminded them so much of their optics, of her iris seemed to be swallowing up her eye. She was holding up both of her hands and they could feel the energy pouring off of her.

Soon he was too encased in blue energy, and he seemed to be frozen, and the only thing moving was his optics. "I _fucking_ warned you," she hissed. She glanced over at Sunstreaker and saw that there was a mark on their armor. Her eyes widened. They could taste ozone. "Don't hurt my Guardians."

She curled her fingers in anger and pulled them fluidly toward the grounds. They watched in _horroramazementfearaweours_ as she tore Blight into pieces in front of them. Her breathing is hard as her magic seems to collapse inward, her armor flickering once, twice, before she's just their tiny human charge again. 

Daphne looks up at them, absently wiping at the blood that is slowly starting to trickle down her nose. "Well," she says breathlessly. "That's something new."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunstreaker carefully takes his sleeping charge from Sideswipe's open servo. Soon after she... offlined Blight, an event that both amazes and worries him, she passed out in the backseat of his brother's alt mode. 
> 
> Speaking of his brother, the glitch's owl-like helm peers into the open window as Sunstreaker's holoform places Daphne into her bed. Her cat, which he will never admit still terrifies him, hisses at him from her pillow. "Is she okay?" Sides whispers. 
> 
> She shifts in her sleep as he pulls the large fabric she calls a blanket over her. He sees a spot of red on her cheek and carefully wipes it off. "I think so," he says carefully. "We have to tell Prime and Ratchet."
> 
> "Agreed," his brother replies. He hears the sound of transforming, and his brother's holoform flashes into their charge's room. 
> 
> They both watch her a few minutes as if they're waiting for something. "She's powerful," Sunstreaker comments finally. Even with the jammer ring, through their bond, both of them can feel the raw power that pours out of her. 
> 
> "Yeah," Sides whispers. He affectionately tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and she sighs, leaning into his palm. "We have to protect her."
> 
> He knows what his brother is saying. She proved today they don't have to protect her from the day-to-day 'Cons. He's more worried about what Soundwave and Shockwave would do if they learned she held the power of the Allspark in her fragile human body. He's worried about what her government would do if they learned of the power she had. He's worried about what would happen if anti-mutant organizations got their hands on her. He's worried about what will happen when his ah lan is in full control her power. 
> 
> "Yeah," Sunstreaker agrees quietly. "We're going to protect our Daphne, no matter what."


	12. heir of everything in particular

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl gets to visit the room where it happens.

"Donna!" Josh called, glancing at the clock. _Dammit,_ he thought. He had been so engrossed in his phone call with the junior Senator from Michigan that the time had slipped by him. "Donna!" he yelled again, pulling on his jacket. 

"Yes?" The blonde head of his assistant popped into his office, her blue eyes wide and innocent. 

He sighed, taking a sip of his coffee and then blanching when it turned out to be cold. "First," he said, holding up his hand with a sigh. "You're supposed to tell me when I have a meeting."

"Oh!" she said, glancing at her watch. "You were supposed to meet Daphne Winters in the lobby ten minutes ago. Sorry," she adds sarcastically. 

Josh sighs again. Even though it was almost nine in the morning, he knew this was going to be a long and taxing day. _Yay_. "Second, go get me some coffee in a to-go mug. I need some caffeine if I'm going to get through this day," he tells her, rubbing at his eyes. 

"Got it," she replies, zipping out the door. 

Josh paused for a moment. He really was tired. He had been up late calling senators and aides in hopes to get a bill passed and only got three hours of sleep before coming into the office at six. 

But, there was no time for a power nap in Toby's office. Yawning, he walked out of his office into the bullpen, poking his head into Sam's office. "Hey, Sam," he greeted. 

The Deputy Communications Director greeted him with a smile. "Josh! I thought you were meeting with Daphne," he said, taking off his glasses and reclining in his chair. 

"Yeah, I'm actually late," he laughed, leaning against his friend's door. " _Donna_ ," he emphasized loudly, casting a dirty look over his shoulder. "-didn't remind me."

The brunette cocked his head. "Okay, one, if you're late, why are you talking with me, and two, we've been talking about this since Christmas, two weeks ago."

Okay, so maybe Sam, CJ, Charlie, Leo, the President, and yes, Josh himself (but not Toby. Daphne had confided in him that she was actually scared of Toby and _Toby_ had told him that Toby was actually scared of Daphne), had been a _little_ excited about Daphne coming to visit the White House. Since meeting her in Mission City, the blue-haired, anxious, know-it-all, mutant had become a little sister to them all. And, yes, he was still embarrassed that he was called out for staring. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Josh sighed. He always hated admitting anyone, especially Sam, was right. "I'll see you in a bit, Sam?"

"Yeah, see you in a bit."

Josh started making his way to the lobby, waving to various aides, staff, and assistants. Donna met up with him when he exited the bullpen, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. She held up a to-go mug for him and he greedily sipped it down, making a face when it burned his tongue. 

"So, why is everyone making a big deal over this Daphne girl?" she asked, taking the mug from his hand and replacing it with a file. 

He gave her a side-eyed glance. He couldn't tell her why Daphne was so important. The knowledge of the Autobots, Daphne, and Mission City was strictly classified. The President had to fight with Fitzsimmons and Nancy so Josh and the rest of the senior staff could have access. "Uh, she's the daughter of CJ's cousin and she's getting an internship here this summer," he replied, the practiced lie rolling off of his tongue. CJ had been pleased when told Daphne was now her honorary cousin. 

"Ah, good old nepotism," Donna joked and Josh rolled his eyes. 

They were nearing the lobby now and Josh flipped open the file to refresh himself on the Autobots. Giant robots but don't call them robots to their faces? Check. Millenia long battle with robots that were clearly scarier-looking than the nice ones? Check. Destruction of a very important, very ancient artifact that damned their race to extinction? Ahaha, check. Now trapped in the good old US-of-A with a military base in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Nevada? Unfortunately, check. And a teenager, wait, a twenty-year-old mutant is now the face of the Autobots? Weirdly, check. 

Josh made his way around the corner that lead to the lobby, then froze, backing up into the hallway. 

"Josh, what the hell are you doing?" Donna asked, whining slightly when he pulled her back into the hallway with him. 

"Shh!" he hissed, peering around the corner. Daphne, _who was in a brown wig?_ , was with two boys. Scratch that, two _men._ Both were way taller than him, taller than anyone he knew, except maybe some of the Secret Service agents, and they towered over Daphne. Josh was secure enough in his own sexuality to admit that these guys were _hot,_ and his ego was saddened to inform him that yes, these guys were hotter than him. "Daphne's with some guys!"

"What? Let me see," Donna shoved him back and took a look for herself. "Woah," she gulped. "I think I'm in love."

Woah was right. Both looked to be of Middle Eastern, African descent. The one with darker skin was covered in freckles and had golden-brown skin that seemed to be growing out from being kept short. This guy was _intimidating_ with a capital I and kept glaring at everyone around him was a threat. _Now that's a guy I do not wanna play basketball against,_ Josh thought to himself. The guy with lighter skin was built leaner than the other guy, with long silver hair that brushed the tips of his ears. He seemed to be flirting with Daphne by how red her cheeks were. 

"Josh, you have to let me meet them," Donna pleaded as Josh snapped out his ' _holy-shit-I'm-not-the-hottest-guy-in-the-room-anymore-and-it-makes-me-uncomfortable_ ' moment. 

"No, Donna, you're just gonna try and flirt with them and it's gonna be bad," he countered, taking his mug and file out of her hands. "Now, shoo, back to the office with you." She pouted, but did as she told. 

Josh took a deep breath, steadied himself, and walked out to the lobby. "Daphne!" he greeted, and the mutant in question spun around. 

"Hey, Josh," she said, giving him a smile. She ran a nervous hand down her gray skirt, smoothing it out. He embraced her in a hug, careful to not hit her with his to-go mug. She was wearing a pretty gray skirt suit with a white turtleneck underneath it. The silver-haired man held what looked to be her black coat.

"Okay trip?" he asked. 

By the way her expression turned sour, he guessed the answer was no. "I wish," she grumbled, crossing her arms. "It was the road trip from _hell_ ," she emphasized, glaring at the two men beside her. Josh realized suddenly that both of the men were wearing sunglasses in DC, at the beginning of January, when the average temperature was 35. 

The man with silver hair laughed, nudging her with an elbow. "C'mon, Blue, it was _fun_ ," he whined playfully. "We had a blast, right, Sunny?"

The other man sighed. "Sure, Sides, we had a _blast,_ " he mocked. 

Josh was obviously missing something, but his big ego prevented him from admitting he didn't know something. "So, Daph, who are your two friends?"

"Oh!" she said in surprise, her cheeks going pink. "Ah, sorry Josh. Josh Lyman, meet my two Guardians, Sunstreaker," she inclined her head toward the golden-haired man who looked like he could beat up a bear. "And Sideswipe." The silver-haired man looked like he could beat up a tinier bear. Sadly, Josh could beat up now bears, but he could make junior senators and new House reps shit their pants. 

"Guardians...?" he trailed off in confusion. 

Daphne frowned slightly, tilting her head. "Did they not tell you? Sunny and Sides, are, well," she cast a glance over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "Autobots. They're in their holoform."

Josh blinked. Ah, yes, the one thing in the Autobot file he forgot to check. Robots who could freakily look like humans if they wanted to and no one knew the real science behind? Scared like when he watched the first Chucky movie, but, check. He had forgotten about the memo they had gotten shortly after Mission City, telling them Daphne was no under constant Autobot protection.

"Yeah, sorry," he swallowed, running his free hand through his hair. "Totally forgot. Josh, nice to meet you, Sunny, Sides," he said, holding a hand, feeling slightly awkward using the nicknames. 

Sunny looked him up and down, his lip curling. His blue eyes glowed underneath his sunglasses. "My name is Sunstreaker. And I don't touch humans like yourself," he said lazily, the disdain clear in his voice. He slowly, almost possessively, put his arm around Daphne, who looked surprised. 

"Okay then," he said quickly, retracting his hand and placing it in his pocket. 

Daphne let out a nervous laugh, glaring at Sunny- _Sunstreaker_. "Sorry about my brother," Sides said, giving him a bright smile. Hell, if Josh hadn't unfortunately been as straight as a board, he would have had his pants charmed off by that smile. "Names Sideswipe. Ol' Sunny over here-" he reached over and shoved his brother off of Daphne who looked thoroughly embarrassed. "-are Blue's Guardians and we go with her everywhere."

"Well, it's nice to meet you both," Josh replied, nervously taking a drink from his coffee. "Daph, what's up with the wig?" he asked, changing the subject. 

She touched the wig, which, in all honesty, wasn't as bad as some other wigs he saw. He would have thought it was her real hair if he didn't know her. It reached her collarbones and had some wispy bangs. "We uh, well, met some unfriendlies a couple days before Christmas and the twins wanted to take some precautions," she explained. The wig really suited her, and paired with the skirt suit, it made her look, and he thought this with guilt, look human. Her eyes didn't look as shocking when her hair and scars were covered, and from the way her eyes narrowed at him, he realized he was probably projecting his thoughts again. And from the way her Guardians tensed, he could swear they heard his thoughts too. 

"Anything the President needs to be worried about?" he asked. 

She hesitated. "I don't think so," she replied. "Some over 'Bots cleared the area and NEST thinks they went into hiding after two of their operatives were eliminated." A look of guilt flashed over her face when the last phrase left her mouth. _Interesting,_ he noted. 

"Good to know, thanks," he said, then clapped his hands. "Well, are you ready to see the White House?"

~~~

Daphne smoothed down her wig again for what seemed like the forty-eighth time as they waited outside of the Oval Office. "He's running late in a meeting with the Secretary of Treasury," Josh explained, the older man looking through some files his assistant, Donna, a nice younger woman, had brought him for his approval. 

"That's fine," she replied with a smile, put on the inside she was freaking out. To make things clear, she liked Josh. Thought he was funny, smart, and made a good friend. But he was egotistical and judgemental. Even if she wasn't telepathic, his thoughts were practically written on his face. She looked ' _normal,'_ quotations intended. It helped with the worry that her wig (which Sideswipe had picked out with glee) made her look like a baby drag queen, but didn't help with that nagging insecurity that she looked different than everyone else and different was bad. 

And Josh had been wrong about one part. She was wearing contacts the muted the pale ring around her pupil. Sunstreaker had insisted she go the full nine yards after their run-in with the Decepticons. She tried explaining to him that wearing a wig, long sleeves, and contacts wouldn't help because security had to scan her registration card in the lobby. He told her to not worry about "puny human inventions" and he would take care of it. 

She was brought back to the present by Sides gently squeezing her arm. He leaned down, sending a wave of calm through the bond. "I can practically taste your anxiety," he murmured in her ear. 

She scowled at him. "You'd be too if, one, you could hear _everyone's_ thoughts," she emphasized, indicating Josh who had his head buried in files. "And two, you were meeting the freaking president in the freaking Oval Office."

Sides rolled his eyes, and even though he was wearing glasses, Daphne could feel him rolling them. From her other side, Sunny stoically flicked his brother. "Stop bothering her, Sides. She's already riled up."

"Oh, you're not blameless in this, Sunny," she said and Sides looked like the cat who caught the mouse. On the outside, Sunny remained stoic, but through the bond, she could feel a flicker of canary yellow amusement. "I can't believe that stunt you pulled with Josh. You could have caused a, uh-"

"An inter-galactic, diplomatic incident," Sides supplied.

"-inter-galactic, diplomatic incident," she finished. 

Her prideful (that wasn't really a difference between the two, but whatever) Guardian looked down at her. "I don't touch humans."

"But you touch me," she pointed out. "And you can't pull that shit with the President."

Sunny sighed, exchanging a meaningful glance with Sides (deep purple of understanding, ocean blue of introspection, a touch of sickly green shame). "But _you're_ different. I touch these, humans-" he sniffed. "-out of duty. I touch you because I feel like it," he answered, but by the unimpressed expression on her face (but she could feel their emotions when he said that, the pink of affection, a hint of magenta want), he sighed again. "Fine. Whatever. I'll shake hands with your 'President,'" he mocked. 

"Thanks, Sunny," she beamed. "You just saved me the horror of having to excuse your behavior and you excused yourself the horror of being written up by Prime and Prowl," she added slightly. 

His eyes narrowed and Sides laughed. "You wouldn't dare," Sunny said lowly. 

Daphne crossed her arms. "Watch me," she replied, raising an eyebrow. 

"Is that a threat, Blue?" Sides asked excitedly, watching them like it was fight night. 

"Oh, yeah. It's directed at you, too, Sides. So _behave_ ," she said. Her tone left no room for arguing. She was not going to be known as the person who allowed aliens to insult President Bartlett. 

They exchanged another glance. "Fine," they said together. Sunny looked incredibly resigned and tired while Sides still looked mischievous. She fixed him with a glare and he gave her a wink. 

Josh suddenly clapped his hands and Daphne jumped. "So, you ready to go in?" he asked. 

"Totally," she replied, and then immediately cringed at her choice of words. God, was she trying to sound even younger than she was? She smoothed down her wig, her blazer, and her skirt one more time as the door to the Oval Office opened and people started pouring out. There were a few curious glances thrown their way and she desperately wished for a mirror to check her appearance one more time. 

Josh held the door open, gesturing for them to go in. Daphne took a deep breath. God, why was she so nervous? A hand gently pushed her toward the door, the solid presence of one of her Guardians behind her making it impossible for her to run away. "Relax," Sunny whispered in her ear. "You'll do great, _ah lan._ "

From the use of the endearment, she knew Sunny was being genuine. Swallowing, she walked into the Oval Office and was immediately taken aback by the beauty of the room. "Wow," she mumbled as the President and Leo, the Chief of Staff, stood up to greet them. 

"Your first time in the Oval, right?" he said in greeting, holding out a hand. 

"Oh, yes, sir," she replied, moving forward and shaking his hand. She noted that, in her heels, she was as tall as the President. "It's absolutely incredible. Better than I ever even imagined."

Leo chuckled. "That's what everyone says," he said, embracing her. Leo reminded her a lot of her maternal grandfather before he passed away and she could almost imagine it was grandfather hugging her. 

"It's good to see you, Leo, Mr. President," she smiled. 

"You as well, but you seem to look a little different," he joked, gesturing with a hand toward her wig. "I like the blue a lot better, Ms. Daphne."

She beamed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mr. President."

His eyes landed on her Guardians, who were standing rather awkwardly to the side. "Josh, would you shut the door?" Josh closed the door behind them. "He'll be back in fifteen minutes with the rest of the senior staff. Now, I'm assuming the two gentlemen with you are not gentlemen at all."

She let out a small laugh. "No, sir. These are my two Guardians, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, in their holoforms." She sent a glance their way. 

Sideswipe got what she was saying, bouncing forward and offering his hand. "Greetings, Mr. Bartlett, and Mr. McGeary, Daphne speaks highly of you and it is my pleasure to meet your acquaintance," he charmed with a blinding smile. Both men returned the handshake and smile with earnest, the attention turning to Sunstreaker. 

"Sunstreaker," he sighed, reluctantly following his brother's lead. The President's smile remained but was muted. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you both. Please, sit," Bartlett said, gesturing to the two couches facing each other. 

"Tea?" Leo offered as Daphne and the 'Bots sat down. 

"Oh, yes, please," she replied with a smile, happy to have a warm drink on this cold day. Leo poured her a cup and sat down with the President on the opposite couch. She was cushioned between her two Guardians and she suddenly remembered what Sunstreaker had told her earlier. That he touched her because she was different. The splash of pink and only a whisper of magenta. And her pinks started to grow pink and she threw up a shield of anxiety between them.

"Now," Bartlett leaned forward, his expression serious. "There was an incident in Washington, close to Everett?"

"Yes, sir," she answered, taking a sip of tea. "It happened around one in the morning. My Guardians alerted Autobot command that Decepticons had been picked up on scanners. The Decepticons in question were second-in-command Starscream, who was present at Mission City, Blight, and Barricade. The latter two are now offline." A pulse of awareness goes through them, her Guardians stiffening slightly, and Daphne pushes the memory what she did ( _anger-fear-screaming-rush of power_ ) away. 

"Good job, gentleman," Bartlett acknowledges with a nod. "Pass along my thanks to Prime."

"Ah, thank you, Mr. President," Sideswipe replies and she knows he feels uncomfortable being a diplomat. 

"Any civilian casualties?" Leo asks. 

Daphne shakes her head no. "No. We managed to lead them to an unpopulated, wooded area outside of Everett. Two Autobots who made planetfall back in November, Bluestreak, and Arcee, will remain in the general area until the end of the week."

"No further sightings?" Bartlett asks. 

"No, sir," she answers, drinking from her teacup. "Starscream was injured when he escaped and unlikely to make another appearance any time soon. He seems to be in 'control,' and we're using the term 'control' and 'lead' lightly here-" _Jazz would be happy I got to use his lessons on Decepticon leadership and politics,_ she thinks absently. "-so, he'll probably order any 'Cons left on Earth to keep a low profile."

"Good, good," he murmurs, leaning back in his seat. "And how's school?"

She blinks. "I, uh, it's, uh, good, sir," she stumbles, slightly caught off guard. 

Leo chuckles. "We want to know how you're doing before Josh comes back with the vultures," he tells her. 

"Ah, I see," she smiles. "It's going good, sir. Really good. I'm heading into my last semester and I'll be hearing back from law schools soon."

Sideswipe shifts slightly and she glances at him. "Daphne is being too modest," he says mischievously. But she can feel the royal blue pride radiating from him. "She got a 4.0 again this semester, chosen department scholar for the second semester in a row, and was invited by a professor to do an independent study in the spring," he rattles off. 

"She's doing all of this while training multiple times a week and receives diplomatic lessons from Jazz as well," Sunstreaker adds softly. Her cheeks turn red. She's totally got off guard by the praise she's receiving, and the fact they're even paying attention to what she's doing. 

Bartlett laughs at her surprised expression. "Ah, modest, are we?" he teases. "Well, I'm glad to hear you are doing well. Some defense guys were worried that you'd be too overwhelmed with your academic responsibilities to be a proper ambassador," he adds, fixing her with a stare. She knows what he's trying to say. That Morshower and Keller and the rest don't think she can do this job. 

She smiles, showing all of her teeth. "Well, you can tell them I appreciate their concern, but they don't worry."

"That's my girl," Leo praises softly. He opens his mouth to say more, but he's interrupted by Charlie, the President's personal assistant, opening the door. 

"Mr. President? Senior staff is here."

"Send them on in," Bartlett says. "The vultures are here," he remarks with a smile. 

Daphne sets her cup of tea down, rotating so she could see the senior staff come in, murmuring hellos to the President and Leo. Josh prances in, still holding his travel mug from earlier. "Be careful of this one," he warns, pointing at Sunstreaker. Her Guardian responded in kind with barring his teeth in a mockery of a smile. "See, what did I say?"

"Oh, shut up, Joshua, they're guests," CJ scolds lightly, surprise flickering over her face when she saw her Guardians, covering it up with a smile. "Daphne," she greeted. "My favorite 'cousin,'"

She laughs standing up and hugging the older woman. "It's good to see you again, CJ. I gotta talk to you about Dr. Ingrid."

"I can't believe he's still teaching at Berkeley," CJ groans, passing her to Sam. 

"Daphne," he smiles, hugging her and kissing her lightly on the cheek. She tries to fight her blush and failed. Hey, it wasn't her fault Sam was a handsome brunette with a charming quirkiness. "I enjoyed reading your paper on _Lee v United States,_ " he says, referencing her final paper in her constitutional law class on the case making it's way through the courts, challenging the constitutionality of the Mutant Registration Act. 

"Thanks. I'm hoping the Court will hear it sooner than later."

"You and _me_ both," Sam replies. He turns his head to look at Toby, standing sullenly behind him. "Aren't you going to say hi, Toby?"

Toby fixes her with a stare, inclining his head. "Daphne," he greets. Toby scares her and she's not afraid of admitting it. She's sure he's a nice guy, but she hears he has a temper and a yell that can shake mountains. 

"Uh, hi, Toby," she replies, clearing her throat. Her Guardians are still sitting on the couch, their bright blue eyes focused. "CJ, Sam, Toby, these are my Guardians, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Sunny, Sides, these are the remaining members of the President's senior staff."

"Nice to meet you," CJ says, acknowledging them with a nod. Josh clearly told them about his encounter with Sunstreaker, and the others follow suit. Sideswipe smiles, but Sunstreaker merely tilts his head, looking like he'd rather be stuck in a room with Bluestreak. _Wow, they're so pretty,_ she hears CJ think. 

Daphne winces, remembering something she wanted to talk to the President about. "Uh, Mr. President, I'm just put this bluntly," she says, an apologetic smile. 

He stiffens in his seat. "What is it?"

"You and your team have no telepathic protection," she explains. "A telepath, well, any telepath worth their money could come in and steal state secrets in a matter of seconds."

Bartlett exchanges a glance with Leo, who in turn looks at Josh. "Why did no one in state mention this?" Bartlett asks. "Or Emma Frost, for that matter," he adds, name dropping the only mutant senator and most likely Daphne's mysterious and generous benefactor. 

She smiles thinly. "Probably cause of the MRA. Mutants don't want to work with the government. And for the Senator... Emma is complicated

He nods gravely and she can feel his guilt. "And can you put in the telepathic protection we need?"

She starts. "Oh, no sir, most definitely not."

Sam frowns. "But I thought you were an Omega."

"Not my telepathy," she replies. "I'm only an Omega with my powers over electro-magnetism. I can't provide the protection you need. Telepaths like me are a time a dozen. What you need is someone with serious power."

"Like who?" Leo asks, folding his arms. 

"I'd recommend Betsy Braddock since she has the most experience, but she works for Interpol, so probably not."

"Yeah, probably not," Josh quips with a smile. 

"So, if you can't go to Betsy, then go to Jean Grey or the Professor," she says. Despite being fans of the President, her mentors still hated doing anything for the government.

The President must have read the doubt on her face. "Would you mind asking them, Daphne?"

She shakes her head. "No problem, I'm seeing them tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Primus, I hated that," Sideswiped groaned as he pulled out of the White House. "That was the most boring thing I've ever done."
> 
> "Oh, shut it, you big baby," Daphne teased playfully. "I found it incredibly interesting."
> 
> "Of course you did," Sunstreaker growled through the radio. "You like all that boring sort of human stuff."
> 
> She rolled her eyes. "Come on, guys. I know you had fun."
> 
> There was a beat of silence. 
> 
> "I did have fun scaring the male named Josh," Sunny finally says. 
> 
> "I liked telling that blonde female I wasn't human when she gave me her phone number," Sides adds cheerfully. 
> 
> "I knew it!" she crowed.


	13. take me home tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl gets to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little difficult for me to write, but it needed to be written so our Daphne can move past things and move forward. And I'd highly recommend reading this week's notes!!

Standing outside of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Daphne felt anxious. Granted, she was always operating under the guise of omnipresent anxiety that waited in the shadows to strike when she was vulnerable. She hadn't been back in a year and a half.

"You okay, Blue?' Sides asked, standing beside her. He looked rather, well, _hot_ , today, wearing a pair of black skinny jeans with an orange striped button-down tucked in, seemingly unaffected by the cold. He wore his regular round, frameless glasses today instead of the sunglasses he wore at the White House yesterday. When she asked him why, he had cheerily told her at a school for mutants, no one would look twice at his eyes. 

"Uh-huh," she mumbled, her hand twitching by her side. They were outside of the main administrative building, the cherry red door seemingly mocking her. It was deceptively quiet, the reason being several glamors held together by Wanda Maximoff to protect the school from any evil-doers, despite the fact the school had no real neighbors and was out in the countryside. From where they stood, it looked like all there was an impressive, castle-like mansion, and she could feel the glamor rippling around them. 

"For Primus' sake, Daphne, can you knock already?" Sunny groaned from behind them, leaning against the building. "I thought this was your home," he taunted. 

She whipped around and gave him a withering look. "This is my home," she hissed. "I'm just, well, a little nervous," she added sheepishly. 

Sunny rolled his aquamarine eyes, crossing his arms. Like always, he was in dark colors. He wore dark washed jeans tucked into black combat boots, a dark grey Henley, and a black leather jacket. Despite his present jackassery, like his brother, he was also looking hot. She felt inadequate, dressing for warmth rather than fashion, wearing a royal purple sweater that was covered by a black winter coat. "I know you're nervous, I can fragging feel it and it's making _me_ nervous. Stupid bond," he muttered. 

"Come on, Streaker, give her a break," he replied, turning his attention to her. "But, Daphne, please be a dear and knock on the door. I'm bored."

"Fine," she sighed, hesitating before finally knocking on the door. 

The door was opened and she was immediately _home._ The glamor broke and she could hear the familiar sounds of Xavier's, the quiet murmuring of staff, the excited giggling of students seeing where their teachers lived for the first time. And, behind the door, was a familiar redhead. "Daphne," Jean Grey greeted brightly, sweeping her in a hug. "I was wondering when you were going to get here."

"Jean," she got out, suddenly overcome with emotion. _God,_ she had missed the older woman, feeling the warm, simmering heat of Jean's fire red aura. Jean had been one of the first teachers she met at Xavier's, had been one of the three people who understood her powers, had been the person who introduced Daphne to her best friend. "I-I missed you," she stammered. 

Her face split into a brilliant smile. "I missed you too, kid. How about you invite your two friends in so they aren't freezing in the cold?" Daphne blushed, motioning for her Guardians to follow her in, shutting the door behind them. Jean's smile faded slightly as she looked the two Autobots in disguise over, her eyes flashing. "On a second glance, I'm not thinking your friends feel the cold."

Daphne could feel the press of honey-orange suspicion from her Guardians and she sent back a pulse of lavender trust. "I guessed the Prof told you?" she asked and the other woman nodded. "Well, this makes things easier. Jean, these are my Guardians, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe."

They made no move to shake her hand. From the corner of her eye, she could see them engaged in some sort of stare down, feel the slight whisper of steel gray aggression. Finally, they inclined their heads at the same time and she felt a wave of relief go through her. 

"Nice to meet you," Jean said tightly. "Charles is waiting to see you in his office."

"Sweet," Daphne said quickly, trying to defuse the sudden, unexplainable tension. "Lead the way, ma'am," she joked, giving her a mock salute. 

Jean laughed, throwing an arm around her (and there's a sudden pulse of green jealously). "I've missed your antics, kid," she said, walking them towards Xavier's office. "Logan says classes aren't the same without your sass and backtalk."

"Daphne? Sassy? I don't think so," Sides said. She turned to see Sides pouting, Sunny glaring daggers into the back of Jean's head. 

"You know who else missed your sass?" Jean continued, as if Sides hadn't talked. "Hope."

Daphne suddenly deflated, almost tripping over her own feet. Hope. Jean's daughter. Her best friend. The person she hurt. The person she hadn't seen in person since the Incident. Sure, they called and texted, but she hadn't seen Hope in a year and a half. "Ah, yeah, I'm looking forward to seeing her. I missed her," she said through chapped lips. 

Jean rose an eyebrow, and she could feel the gentle press of Jean's fire red telepathy. Jean far surpassed any telepathic abilities, or any other kind of abilities, Daphne had, being a class one Omega level mutant. The redhead was the most powerful mutant the world had ever seen, even more powerful than the Professor or Magneto. "You guys used to be closer than sisters," she said raising an eyebrow, stopping outside of the office door. 

Daphne swallowed and she could feel lime green distaste from her Guardians. "Yeah, I know," she replied. "Well, should we go in?" she asked, changing the subject. Before Jean could reply, she quickly opened the door. She had forgotten how much of an inquisitive asshole Jean could be at times. 

She stepped into the office and saw the Professor sitting at his desk and sitting across from him was a familiar face. "Wanda!" she said in surprise. "The Professor told me you were still in Romania, visiting family."

The brunette's wine red lips spread into a smile. "No, I got in this morning. I suggested to Charles I surprise you," she replied, standing up gracefully. Wanda was a tall, statuesque woman, almost six feet in height. She was a former member of the Brotherhood of Mutants, a mutant separatist organization run by Magneto, her father. Wanda's hexing powers and ability to manipulate reality were the closest thing to Daphne's own powers. The older woman had spent several late nights with Daphne when her powers grew too much for her to handle. 

Jean brushed passed her, sitting down in the chair beside Wanda. Sideswipe shut the door behind him as her Guardians remained ever-present guards behind her. "Well, it was a good surprise," she smiled. "And it's good to see you too, Professor."

"All healed after Mission City, I take it?" he asked, pushing himself in his wheelchair. He squeezed her hand in greeting, making a slight noise when he saw the burns on her palms. "Had hoped those would have healed."

"Our people believe it's an effect from _Allspark_ exposure," Sideswipe butted in, emphasizing the word 'Allspark.' Sunstreaker stiffened beside him, and Sides tilted his head, smiling at the Professor and showing all his teeth. "I'm Sideswipe and this my brother, Sunstreaker."

"We've been looking forward to talking with you ever since Prime and Ratchet mentioned you," Sunny added. She could read the expression on his usually stoic face, or felt it through the bond: we know.

The Professor went pale, dropping her hand. "I- yes, of course," he stammered. "Any questions you have, I am at your disposal."

The three women in the room watched the interaction with varying levels of confusion. "Too much testosterone in this room," Wanda muttered and Daphne laughed, breaking the tension in the room. 

"Oh, it's good to be back," Daphne commented, smiling back. 

"It's good to have you back," Wanda replied, a playful smirk on her face. "Julian Keller has been quite despondent since you've been gone."

Daphne turned bright red and Sides jumped at the opportunity to further embarrass her. "Oh, who is this Julian Keller? Did little Daphne have a boyfriend?" he teased. (Sometimes she was really confused by their ability to turn from tense and scary to teasing and relaxed the next moment. She wonders if they're acting. She wonders if this is why they're the best frontliners the Autobots have because they can turn off their intensity on and off.)

"Shall I... _dispose_ of him?" Sunny inquired, his face stoic, except for the slight uptilt of his (plump, kissable) lips. 

"I, uh, no!" Daphne got out, her eyes wide. "Wanda, why did you have to bring that up?" she whined. 

"You left the boy heartbroken when you moved to California," Wanda said. She could see the slight pink-red spark of the other woman's magic around her fingers as she leaned against the Professor's desk. 

"He wasn't too heartbroken, Wanda, he tried to hit on Hope the day after she left," Jean remarked, clearly unimpressed with Daphne's ex. The twins' eyes lit up at that, at the possibility of beating someone up to protect her honor. 

The Professor chuckled, but she could tell he was still on edge. "Enough talk of poor Daphne's love life," he said, taking mercy on her. He looked over at Jean, and a telepathic conversation passed between them. "Daphne, how about you leave us to talk? Hope is waiting for you in the lobby."

She could feel the slight persuasion he sent her way, and looked over at her Guardians. They were watching Charles like a hawk and she could feel barely suppressed scarlet rage. "I..." she trailed off, slightly confused. But her Guardians nodded at her, not taking their eyes off of Charles, and Jean smiled at her in agreement. "Okay, I'll be back soonish," she said slowly. She brushed her fingertips over her Guardians on her way out, softly closing the door behind her. 

~~~

Daphne slowly made her way to the lobby, happy to get out of the tense atmosphere. She just hoped when she came back everyone was still kicking and breathing. Hoped. Hope. Was she prepared to see her best friend, her sister, her platonic soulmate? Was she prepared to see the person she loved most in this world, the person she let down? The person she let get hurt because of her own ego. 

Taking a deep breath, she entered the lobby and was immediately tackled by a flash of oranged-red hair. "Daphne," she heard her best friend say, Hope's arms holding her close. "Oh, god, Daphne," she half sobbed. "I missed you so fucking much."

She stood there in shock for a moment before she was holding her friend just a close, her face buried in her hair. "I missed you too, Hope," she mumbled. God, she did. She was home in her friend's arms, feel the familiar press of her orange mind, the slight tingle of her friend copying her mutation. "I should have come back sooner."

"Yeah, you fucking should have," Hope muttered, squeezing her tighter before letting her go. She looked almost identical to the last Daphne saw her. Slightly taller than her, a fact her friend held over her. Shoulder length oranged-red hair, a shade lighter than her mom's. Pale skin that was freckled and hiding powerful muscles. And green eyes. One with a scar, stretching from right above her eyebrow to the top of her cheekbone. A scar she caused.

And Daphne felt a familiar wave of guilt go through her as her finger gently traced it. "God, I'm so fucking sorry, Hope. Seattle was all my fucking fault. Mine and my fucking ego's," she apologized, and she could feel the slight sting of tears in her eyes. 

Hope smiled sadly, squeezing her hand. "Let's go take this outside, eh, Celestial?" she asked, calling Daphne by the stupid superhero name they came up together when they were twelve (kids had been making fun of her for being named after a cartoon character, so in desperation, the two friends came up with an 'acceptable' nickname she could totally not be made fun of). But Hope had ignored what she said. Daphne had been so sure her friend would have told her it was all her fault, that she didn't deserve the stupid fucking Omega status that was the cause of their celebration. 

She let Hope drag her out outside, their interlocked fingers letting off blue and orange sparks. Hope led them to the firepit in the middle of campus that was usually packed, but was abandoned during the break. The warmth was welcome as they sat down on the cold bench, still holding hands. _People would think we were a couple,_ she thought to herself. 

Hope let out a laugh, her green eyes light. "Hey, we made out once, remember?" she teased. 

"Oh, fuck, I had forgotten about that," she groaned and Hope laughed. "That was sophomore year, right? At Jules' stupid Halloween party?"

"Fucking Julian," Hope wrinkled her nose. "God, I can't believe you dated that stupid prick when Josh was right there."

"I can't believe your Dad didn't find out about the party and break it up," she pointed at and it was Hope's turn to groan as Daphne laughed. Her laughter died out as she looked down at their interlocked hands, remembering the apologies she needed to say. "Look, Hope-"

"Don't fucking start with the apologies again, C," Hope snapped and Daphne looked up at her in shock. "It wasn't your fault. Don't you remember what happened?"

Of course, she did, what happened was-

_They were in Seattle, two weeks before Daphne was to go off to Berkeley and Hope started as an adjunct staff member at Xavier's. They were also celebrating Daphne's ascendance in Omega status, even if it was the lowest class powerful. She tried to be careful of her friend's feelings. Hope was close to being an Omega, but had reached only Alpha. She could copy any mutant power, but couldn't replicate the power level. Any power she borrowed was only as powerful as Hope herself. Jean promised her daughter in a few years that she would reach Omega as her powers matured._

_Despite her disappointment, Hope pushed Daphne to celebrate. So here they were celebrating, taking sips of vodka they had stolen from Daphne's mom and strolling through downtown Seattle. Daphne felt powerful and unstoppable, even with her newly issued mutant registration card in her pocket. She was powerful. She was a fucking Omega. She strutted down the sidewalk in her three-inch heels, her head held high, with Hope smirking next to her._

_Together, they were unstoppable._

_They were reaching a shadier part of town, walking past an abandoned warehouse when Daphne stopped dead in her tracks. Hope bumped into her, cursing as almost spilled the vodka. "The fuck was that for, C?"_

_"Shh," she hissed, concentrating on the warehouse. With her telepathy, she could get the barest hints of thoughts inside. But she only needed the barest hints to guess what was going on inside. Purifiers. "You hear that?" she asked, tapping her head._

_Hope's eyes went wide. "Purifiers in fucking Seattle? Holy shit. We need to call Rogue," she said. Jean had insisted an older mutant come with them to their trip to Seattle, despite the fact they were staying with Daphne's parents, because apparently they caused 'trouble'._

_"Yeah, text her," she replied absently. "But we should go in and fuck some shit up."_

_Hope's hands on her phone screen. "Are you kidding me, C? There are fucking Purifiers in there."_

_"I know," she replied, her grin feral. "Rogue's like, what, twenty minutes away? They could get away by then. And we can't trust cops.'"  
_

_"ACAB," Hope muttered in agreement. With a sigh, she sent the text, tucking her phone in her pocket. "I hope you know what you're doing, C."_

_"Of course, I do. I'm a fucking Omega," she said, letting her magic curl around her. She clasped Hope's hand in hers as Hope's imitation of her own power rolled up her arms, the blue and orange sizzling. "Light it up, bitch."_

_"Light it up," Hope echoed, a grin spreading across her face as they blasted open the door._

_The fight was a blur. Somehow, they got split up, despite the fact they both knew Hope needed to stick buy Daphne's side in order for her power to work. But Daphne was sure Hope could take care of herself. If her friend couldn't rely on her mutation, she could rely on her badass fighting skills._

_Besides, Daphne was having fun. Sometimes she forgot how much she liked violence as she slammed a Purifier into the floor, how much she let herself forgot. She wished she had brought her disposable staff with her so she could hit some of these fuckers where it hurt._

_"Daphne!" Hope's scream tore through the air and she felt her blood turn cold. "Daphne help me!"_

_"Hope!" her screams were equally frantic as tore through the empty warehouse, blasting down doors. "Hope!"_

_"C!"_

_"Hope!" she screamed again, finding the source of the screams. She blasted down this door, her eyes blazing blue. Her friend was crying in the middle of the room, three men surround her, pointing guns at Daphne. Hope rose her head and the left side of it was covered in blood, a power suppressing collar around her neck. "You motherfuckers-"_

_She choked on her words as a collar was latched around her, cold and metal and sucking the life out of her, her power collapsing around her, leaving her weak and human and vulnerable and dizzy and sick and unstable and oh god they're going to kill them and this is all her fault-_

"Of course I remember what happened," Daphne replied defensively. "I was an egotistical little shit who took us into that warehouse and didn't come looking for you when you went missing." Her eyes flashed up to the scar on Hope's face. She got out of relatively damage free (despite the nightmares that still plague her and a fear of using her powers for the unintentional harm she may cause) but Hope got hurt. 

Hope sighed, anger flashing over her face. Which Daphne deserved. "Sure. We both know I would have gone in there no matter what you said. And we both know-" she tapped her head. "-the reason you didn't come looking for me immediately was because you thought I could protect myself."

"But-"

"No fucking buts, C," she interrupted angrily. "I'm not going to let you drown yourself in guilt. I'm not gonna let you ignore me and all of our other friends because you thought I was fucking angry at you because I got hurt."

Daphne was silent. Hope wasn't mad? Since the Incident, they had never really talked about it. Or did they? She suddenly remembered Hope trying to talk about it, asking her how she felt, telling her Seattle PD found most of the Purifiers. Trying to tell her it wasn't her fault. 

"Oh," she got out. "Oh. _Oh,"_ she whimpered, as she started to cry and Hope swept her up into her arms. It wasn't her fault. Oh my God, it wasn't her fault. And she spent two years blaming herself and avoiding her best friend. 

"You stupid bitch," Hope joked and Daphne let out a wet laugh, wiping at her eyes. "Always thought you were the smarter one of us, C."

"Guess the fuck not," she sniffed, squeezing her friend's hand. Hope's smile was bright and they pressed their foreheads together. "Light it up?" she asked. 

"Light it up," Hope agreed. "I miss using your cool ass powers," she added. 

And they gave Xavier's an unprompted light show of blues and oranges as two souls reunited. 

~~~

Sunstreaker was furious. He could feel the hot anger of his brother melting into his cold, steel fury as they watched the unassuming man in front of them. _This_ was the man who was suppressing Daphne's powers. And this was someone they could express their anger over her power's being taken away. They couldn't yell at Prime or Ratchet, their superiors, but they sure as frag could yell at the old man sitting in front of them. Daphne may yell at them, but it would have been worth it. 

The redhead woman, Jean, (who they really didn't like. Asides were usually his brother's thing, but he made an exception for her. One, he didn't like how she knew who they were, two, didn't like how she announced what they were to the whole building, and three, didn't like how she touched _his_ squishy) looked between them. "Charles, what the hell is going on here?"

"Oh, yes, I'm very intrigued," Wanda chimed in, lounging in her chair and drinking a glass of wine. 

Sunstreaker cocked his head. "So he has left you in the dark as well."

"Do tell, old man," Sides hissed, shaking with anger. "Tell them how you're suppressing Daphne's powers."

Jean stiffened, her whole body rigid. "Charles," she said softly. "Are they telling the truth? Are they?" she repeated. 

The old man, the man Daphne trusted, the man who had mentored her as a Youngling, the man who trained her, the man who betrayed her, sighed. "Yes," he replied, steepling his hands. "Oh dear God, yes."

Jean let out a sound that sounded like a sob, pressing her hands over her mouth, looking at the man seated opposite her in horror. "Oh God," she moaned, the look of betrayal on her face. There was an ugly part of Sunstreaker that was happy to see her hurting. 

"Charles I cannot fucking believe you," Wanda spat, looking as if she wanted to throw her glass of wine at him. "You swore to never do that again after, well, after Jean," she added softly, placing a gentle hand on the other woman's shoulder. "And to do it to Daphne? She _trusted_ you, Charles."

Charles flinched. Good. He deserved the uncomfortable feeling that came with betraying someone who put their trust in you. Prime and Ratchet deserved it too, though, he would never say it aloud, never think it in their presence. Sunstreaker felt agreement from his brother, who was barely holding his burning rage in check, who was raging over their bond. 

_::I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll destroy you and give your innards as a present to my Daphne,::_ Sides fumed, his eyes trained on the old man. Streaker was surprised at his unchecked aggression. Sure, Sides was usually more vocal with anger, but Sunstreaker was the one who raged, who imagined the ways to kill an enemy while remaining stoic on the outside. 

"I, I did what I thought was right," Charles said finally, his tone soft and mournful.

"Useless slag for brain," Sides hissed.

"Fragging glitch," Sunstreaker added, but the man continued on.

"Daphne has always had problems controlling her powers. That much power at much, she would have destroyed herself. And we know what the government would have done if she suddenly went from class ten to a class one."

"Oh, I call fucking bullshit, cause it went _so_ well last time," Jean suddenly exploded, standing up and looming over Charles' desk. "That's _exactly_ what you said about me. Said about my powers you suppressed from when I was a kid," she spat these words and Charles took it with a bowed head as the desk shook slightly. "And we both know if I had grown up with those powers, learned to control them, Scott wouldn't have almost died and been in a fucking coma for six months. And wouldn't have to deal with this rage. And you want Daphne, the girl we mentored since she came to Xavier's, the girl who is practically my second daughter, you want her to go through the same thing?"

Wanda grabs Jean's hand as she starts to sit, gesturing for the other woman to sit down. The brunette outwardly calm but he can see the rage in her eyes. "Jean is absolutely right. You had no right to suppress Jean's powers and now Daphne's. I am sure this is rooted in some patriarchal want to control women. You should be ashamed of yourself," she scolds precisely, and Charles looks absolutely gutted. He would feel pity for the man, but his Guardian protocols and his respect for Daphne says otherwise. 

(Is it just his protocols and the respects he has for Daphne that are making him act this way? Making his brother act this way? Or was there some deeper reason? He tries to forget the moments when he touches her and he sees colors or when her eyes go bright when she's talking about something stupid and trivial that's suddenly not trivial when she's talking about it or when her mental presence is almost as familiar as his brothers. Could she be...? No, he doesn't _like_ her, certainly doesn't like her enough to even _consider_ naming her _beshami_.)

"The women are right," Sunstreaker jumps in. "Prime was operating under the information _you_ gave him."

"He originally wanted Daphne to have full access to her powers but he said you changed his mind," Sides said, perfectly following Streaker's train of thought. "She'll get these bursts of power and she'll sleep for hours afterward."

"Nosebleeds, too," he adds. "I'm assuming this wouldn't have happened if she could actually use her powers the Allspark gave her."

Charles pales. "Ah, power surges," he says, his eyes flickering to Jean. He's silent for a moment. "You are all right, of course. Jean, you're just as right as you were almost twenty years ago. And I am just as foolish as I was twenty years when I thought protecting someone from their powers was protecting the person."

"So reverse it," Sides says. "Take away whatever fragging mind voodoo you did so she can use her powers."

"It's not that simple," he answers slowly. "I can't reverse it."

Sunstreaker stiffens, his gaze cold. "What do you mean you can't reverse? I thought you said you were wrong."

"He's right," Wanda adds. 

"Jean, you know I'm right," Charles says, almost sounding as if he's pleading with her to agree. He wonders if the old man is scared of him, scared of his brother. For there is nothing a Guardian will not do for their charge. "You can't reverse the process without hurting Daphne. And she'll have full access to her powers in a year or two."

"Unfortunately, Charles is right," Jean says reluctantly, a look of disgust on her face.

The brothers exchange a glance. They can practically feel the fear pouring off him. 

_::Shoud we take him at his word?::_ Sides asks.

_::I guess we have to. There isn't anything we can do.::_

_::Yeah. Daphne would be angry if we did something to hurt her mentor, even if he is a glitch that does not deserve her trust.::_

_::Agree to never mention this to Prime? He'd probably off-line us himself for causing tension with our human allies.::_

_::Agreed.::_

They turn back to look at Charles. "Fine," Sunstreak says, cocking his head. "Only because there's nothing you can do about it."

"If we weren't under order from our commander to not tell Daphne anything, we would have forced you at gunpoint to tell her," Sides adds cheerily, bearing his teeth.

Charles swallows. "Understood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before they left, Sides saw Daphne promise her friend, who looked like an almost carbon copy of the redhaired woman who he still wasn't sure if he liked or not, Hope, something before they left the next day.
> 
> Hope's eyes went wide as there was a sudden flare in their EM fields, blue fire crawling up Daphne's arms and fading to orange as it reached Hope's hands. 
> 
> Something changed at that moment. He could tell something changed because Daphne immediately passed out in the back seat, usually when she pushed her still collared powers to for. 
> 
> Sides could guess what she did. He knew his Daphne well (he was unafraid to call her his, unlike his emotionally glitched brother). She loved her friend. She wanted Hope to always protect herself. So she gave her friend a kernel of power (or so he thought, he wasn't a fragging telepath or a 'Bot with medic grade sensors. He was just guessing based on what he knew about Daphne). 
> 
> That was reason 176 of why Sides liked her. She was loyal to a fault and even more protective than Sunny sometimes, which really said something. Reason 177- she loved and cared without a second thought. Primus, she opened her heart to a bunch of aliens she didn't know who just insulted her. 
> 
> He looked at her in his back seat. Reason 178- Blue was kind pretty when she slept. Frag, he was glad Sunny was busy comming Prime and he wasn't able to make fun of how sentimental Sides was turning. 
> 
> Could he claim her as beshami? He was unsure. 
> 
> Maybe.


	14. the knife wants to slit me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl talks.

Sideswipe glanced ahead at his charge as they marched up the hill, her face flushed. She held a sign above her head and was chanting as they marched, but from the bursts of exhaustion over the bond, he knew she was getting tired (reason 201 he liked his charge- the way she took shallow breaths in between chants). 

_::Gotta increase her cardio, right bro?::_ he joked, the two exchanging a small smile.

 _::Quite disappointed in her,::_ Sunstreaker thought back, his nose wrinkling.

Sides rolled his eyes, gently pushing Daphne forward as she started to slow down. She gave him a grateful smile and he winked at her in turn. Today was the February First, the twentieth-something anniversary of mutants gaining full civil rights in America (he was slightly ashamed he didn't know the exact date and was surprised he didn't know the exact date with the number of times his charge had mentioned it in the past month). Daphne helped to put organize the march, which was part commemorating the Supreme Court decision (Pit if knew what that was) and part further protesting the Mutant Registration Act. So, of course, if Daphne was here, they were here too. Yay.

Not that he _didn't_ want to be here. It was just, well, not to sound like his prissy brother, being surrounded by this many sweaty, spitting humans was kinda disgusting. He'd much rather be getting the car wash Daphne owed him.

Plus, he just hated that they, the Autobots, had to be in a country that treated its people that way. Even after meeting with "the President," Sides was still disgusted with America. He and Sunny complained to Prime about this _constantly._ They had even put together a, _frag, what do humans call them,_ PowerPoint, detailing their plan to leave America:

1\. Leave America.

2\. Take Daphne with.

3\. Move to Australia ( _sidenote- Daphne says there's a lot of dangerous non-human organics living there, potential allies in the fight against the 'Cons?_ )

Unbelievably, Prime didn't find their presentation convincing. 

Boo. 

So, here they were, on an early Monday morning, protesting a stupid law that endangered his charge (maybe he could make an argument to Prime and Prowl that their Guardian protocols dictated that they had to take her somewhere safe?) when he could be in the middle of recharge instead. 

Double boo. 

"Having fun?" Daphne asked, glancing back at them, taking a break from her chanting. She slowed down so she was walking in between them and he could feel the excited buzz of her magic pressing against him. Despite the cool breeze and the clouds in the sky, she wore a short-sleeve shirt from Xavier's (he still _hated_ her mentor), her Allspark scars on full display. He was proud of her for that, used to her self-consciously tugging her sleeves down, even in eighty-degree weather, used to glaring at nosey little fraggers who stared at her anyway. 

Sides shrugged. "I wouldn't say fun-"

"'Cause protesting for your rights isn't fun," Sunny grumbled, adjusting the baseball cap he wore. The smile Daphne sent his brother was vibrant. 

"Exactly. But it's sure interesting. I've never seen this many mutants in one place. Never seen you more comfortable either," he added, watching the pink blush climb up her neck. 

"Yeah," she breathed, tucking a piece of blue hair behind her ear. "Yeah," she said again, sounding slightly more confident (reason 202- the way her protest sign banged against her knees). "Talking with Hope helped a lot. I realized I needed to get over myself and stop feeling ashamed and start _doing_ something."

He grinned, throwing an arm over her shoulder and bringing her in for a side hug (reason 203- the way she fit nicely against his holoform). "Good. Sunny and I like you confident, Blue," his smile grew as her blush grew. 

"God, you're such a flirt, Sides, can't take anything you say seriously," she replied, shaking off his arm.

Huh. 

He was being totally serious. 

"Your loss," he shrugged. 

"I'm being serious," Sunny chimed in. He saw the look of surprise flash across on Daphne's face. "You being confident makes our job easier."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Of course you said that-"

"You didn't let me finish," Sunny cut her off, sending her a pulse of amusement through the bond. He glanced over at his brother, his hat casting a shadow over his face. "You being more confident helps make our job easier as you're more likely to use your powers and use them well. Your newfound confidence also makes you happier, which, in turn, makes us happy."

Daphne blinked, an emotion flashing through the bond that neither he nor his brother could make out. "Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Sorry, Sunny."

A crooked grin spread across Sunny's face. "It's fine. Just keep that confidence, _ah lan._ We like it." His brother lightly squeezed her hand. 

"Pit yeah, we like it. You better become more of a badaft," Sides muttered. "Even if you can't take me seriously," he teased lightly. 

"Even if we need to increase your cardio. I see you panting, Winters," Sunny added. 

"Sounds like a marathon is in your future."

"Sounds like _two_ marathons are in your future."

"Oh, shut it, you two," Blue rolled her eyes, taking turns hitting both of them with her sign. But he could feel her mirth, see her pretty eyes light up, the white ring brightening. 

"My bro's right, Blue. How are you gonna deliver your speech if you're panting?" She had excitedly told them a few weeks ago that she was going to be speaking at the protest. Someone (he guessed one of her friends, probably that hellion, Bryce) had told Mutant X, the group that organized the protest, that Daphne had gone to Xavier's _and_ knew the President. So, Daphne had gone from an organizer to the speaker. 

The look she sent him made him laugh. "How are you gonna fight back if I shoot out your tire, Sides?" she shot back, shouldering her in front of them, raising her sign and resuming her chanting. Protestors next to her sent friendly smiles that she returned.

Primus, he was proud of her. 

But he was also worried. Lennox had sent him and Sunny a message the human had gotten from the FBI, that an anti-mutant terrorist group was planning attacks on multiple protests. Including the one in Berkeley. The one Blue organized and was speaking at. Which made her a likely target. 

Prime asked if they wanted backup from Jasper, but they declined. They could deal with a few human terrorists. Piece of cake. 

He and Sunny noted the law enforcement officers standing on the streets, but Sides trusted the officers as far as they could throw him. Which was zero. 

So, they kept one eye on their charge, one eye on their surroundings. And then a third eye in their alt forms that were trailing the protests a few streets over.

Sides sighed. 

Terrorists were the last thing he wanted to deal with today. 

~~~

Daphne's hands started to sweat as she stepped up on the makeshift stage, thousands of mutants and humans alike in front of her. She could see her friends in front, Chantel holding the banner of the Black Student Alliance, Alan holding the GSA banner. Bryce held no club banner, but held two signs, her amber eyes so fierce it warmed Daphne's heart. They had been so supportive when she told them she was getting involved with the march and Mutant X, reading over her speech, promising that their various clubs would show up. And they upheld their promise. Eva Jones, the president of Mutant X, had ecstatically told her this was the biggest turn out in years. 

And to the side of the stage were her two Guardians. Sides caught her eye and gave her a sneaky thumbs up. She couldn't see Sunny's face under his baseball cap, but she hoped he was giving her a small smile of encouragement. 

Taking a deep breath, she took her speech out of her pocket, smooth it out on the podium. "Hi," she got out, a nervous smile on her face as the crowd chuckled. "Wow, there's a _lot_ of you. My name's Daphne Winters and I'm a mutant. I went to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and I'm currently attending Berkeley. I'd like to thank you all for coming today to celebrate the 27th anniversary of _Xavier v New York,_ when the Supreme Court decided that we actually deserve rights," she said, a touch of sarcasm and anger in her voice. 

There were claps and a few ' _hell yeah's'_ and _'that's right'_ from the crowd, and she could feel _(brick red_ _pride_ ) her confidence growing. "And two and a half years ago, in December 2018, Republicans in Congress and the cowardly, hateful, former president Ronald Drumpf, knowing they were going to lose control in January, passed the Mutant Registration Act, which effectively stripped mutants of any rights gained under _Xavier._ "

"Fuck that!" someone called and she let out a laugh. 

"That's right," she smiled. "The MRA forced us to out ourselves, to tell the government we were mutants, to be evaluated like cattle going to the slaughter. It forced us to carry around identification cards, forced us to prove we could 'control' our powers if we wanted to use them. Where's the outrage from personal liberties activists now, huh?"

More clapping and hoots. 

Bryce is pumping her fist and shouting.

She was getting into it now.

"The MRA also listed our addresses and names publicly. Anyone who had internet access and a want to find out who was a mutant could. Concerned citizens could sign up for alerts if a mutant moved into their neighborhood. Like the government had already assumed we were criminals, terrorists, animals, and wanted to tell the whole world. I remember was first college roommate requested a room change when she searched my name. I remember as soon as I moved into my apartment this past fall, Purifier pamphlets were shoved under our door. I remember the word mutie being spraypainted on my front door. I remember a man coming up to me and telling me 'my kind' weren't welcome in his apartment complex."

A flash of fire red rage went through the bond, her eyes flickering over to her Guardians. Sunny was tense, Sides' face a mask of anger. 

And she could feel something that wasn't coming through the bond.

But she continued on, sympathetic murmurs coming from the crowd. 

"But I got off easy. We all know that. We all see the news. We've all seen the videos normie-passing mutants being drug out of their houses by previously friendly neighbors once the MRA went live. We've all heard of mutants being evicted or losing their jobs after being discovered as a mutant. We've all felt the shame that comes with being forced to carry _this-"_ she brandishes her MRA card. "-this piece of useless plastic that denotes us as something different, something dangerous, something other, something deserving of hatred and ostracization, some _thing_ ," she emphasizes. 

She feels it again, the mere whisper of foreign hatred, anger, rage, and a drop of sick contentment. 

Her eyes flick to the roofs of surrounding buildings, her fingers twitching as she tries to find the source of the black hatred. 

The crowd is with her now, and she can feel their rising agreement, their anger different from the phantom press of muddled emotions. 

"And the MRA isn't even succeeding in its goals, and of course, we're not surprised. Mutant interactions with police have increased by 127%. Deaths of mutants by the hand of police have increased by 65%. Probably because police now know who's a mutant and who's not and the bigots can pick their targets." The crowd looks at the officers standing to the side. Good. "Arrest rates of mutants have increased by 36%. Probably because many are now homeless and without an income, unable to get a job because employers can fire them if they're a mutant. Hate crimes against mutants have increased by _230%."_ The crowd rumbles and she can feel their anger rise. Good. "Probably because bigots can find out who's a mutant with a simple internet search."

She follows the ghost-like hatred to three rooftops to her right, four to her left. 

There's no one there, but she can taste the cayenne pepper profound hatred that she's only felt a few times before. 

She sends a burst of sky blue confusion and a touch of white fear to her Guardians; the crowd's emotions are growing. 

"I've talked to the President. Don't ask how," she adds, flashing white teeth. "He's a good guy. But he can't really do shit right now. There's a case making its way through the courts, _Lee vs the United States,_ that's challenging the MRA on the basis it violates the fourth amendment. But it's not likely to make it's way to the Supreme for another year, year and a half. So, what do we do now?"

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are on alert, their heads on a swivel.

She can feel a burst of anticipation, _oh God,_ what's going to happen.

The crowd is spellbound. 

"We stay angry. We keep being ourselves in a world that hates and fears us. We keep-"

In an instant, it changes.

_We're going to kill all these muties-_

_-stupid blue little blue bitch on the stage-_

_-going after her first-_

_-get them all drugged up-_

_-just me and my gun and some stupid muties-_

_-won't know what hit them-_

_-only a few more seconds._

Oh, God. She can feel them now. Can feel their raging hatred and excitement and hatred. Hear them now. They must have been using some of the new ghost tech that hides you from everything. 

She can feel their anticipation. 

She can hear their plan.

They're going to pump the air full of X, a drug that's euphoric for humans, but near-deadly for mutants. Can be snorted or injected, but the powder is the most potent. Increases serotonin and dopamine production, decreases adrenaline and norepinephrine. Blood pressure and heart rate slow, cognitive function decreases, response time is sluggish, sore throat, runny nose, prone to bloody noses. But the biggest side effect of X? Mutants can't use their powers if they're exposed. 

She realizes all of this in a second. 

"-living, oh my god, everyone needs to get down right now!" she screams, her magic sparking around her. "Purifiers!" (And suddenly she's back in an abandoned warehouse in Seattle.) The spell she cast on the crowd is broken as terror fills the air. She can feel the hatred and annoyance of the Purifiers as they race to get the drugs in the air. "Cover your mouths! Use your powers!

She knows what she needs to do. 

But is she quick enough?

She throws up barriers of blue on either side of the square just as the first canister of powdered X explodes a few feet away from her. Fuck. She wasn't quick enough, but her barriers are holding, hopefully keeping any of the other canisters, and bullets, away from the crowd. 

The terror builds to a crescendo as people start to run, the people nearest the explosion on the ground. That was a few feet away from her. And she can't see any X in the air.

Fuck. 

She pulls her shirt over her mouth and she jumps off of the stage, wobbling. Her barriers start to waver. She realizes a few things. 

One. She's most likely inhaled X. Not enough to incapacitate her, but enough that her powers aren't steady. 

Two. She can't find her friends. 

Three. She can't find her Guardians. Can't really feel them, either. 

Four. Her barriers are wavering. They're not safe. 

~~Daphne~~ Celestial starts to run, picking up a girl who fell and pushing her forward. She doesn't see any police officers, the ones who were promising they were going to keep them safe a few hours ago. Of course they're not here. The Purifiers attacking them are probably their off duty buddies. 

She runs, but she knows it's not fast enough, but she can't run any faster. There's people all around her and they're all running scared too. She can see the green skin of Eva, pea-green in fear. She sees a crying mutant boy in his mother's arms. But Celestial doesn't see her Guardians. 

Somehow another canister explodes right in front of and she can't help the breath she takes as shrapnel digs into her arms. 

Her head starts to spin. 

Her barriers start to fall. 

The screaming grows louder. 

She feels ashamed that she couldn't protect everyone, but everyone is a victim to X. 

People fall all around her. 

Fuck. 

Where are Sunny and Sides?

~~~

"Daphne!" Sunstreaker screams, searching for her blue head in the crowd. He's not scared. He's _not_ scared. He's fragging _terrified._ He can't find Daphne. He can't find his charge while terrorists are shooting canisters of _something_ into the crowd that's making mutants pass out. They have guns. He can see some of the police officers who were standing on the streets on the rooftops, wrestling guns out of their hands. 

But there's not enough of them and eventually one of the protestors are going to get hurt. What if it's his Daphne?

They are standing on the sidewalk, pressed against a building, trying to avoid being trampled. People are still running and there are fewer of them now as they leap over prone bodies on the street. A human stumbles in front of them and he helps her up. 

Sideswipe is running ahead of him, doubling back every few seconds, trying to find Daphne. They saw her housemates a few minutes earlier who had no idea where she went. Chantel was bleeding from her forehead, Alan limping, but Bryce was leading them from the carnage, a determined look on her face. 

He still can't see her. He can feel her though. Feel her fear, helplessness, anger, rage, shame. It blooms in his chest like a bullet straight to the spark chamber. His Guardian programming is screaming at him to transform, to find his charge, but he can't, no matter how much he wants to transform and blow all these terrorists to pieces. He's more scared now than when she went toe to toe with a Decepticon. Then, she had her powers, could protect herself. Then, they found her easily. 

Canisters are still being fired in the air despite the small number of people remaining in the square who are on their feet. Screams and crying and sirens fill the air and they still can't find their Daphne. 

A shot rings out and it feels like someone turned the gravity off. 

"Daphne!" he screams again and now he's running alongside his brother. Sides' dread feels like his own. They're looking everywhere, looking at the ground hoping to find familiar blue hair, looking in alleys. They can still feel her fear, feel it pounding in their chests. 

Holy Primus, he's never been this terrified. 

Pit, he's never been this angry. 

If he finds the humans who orchestrated this attack, he is going to pull them limb from limb. 

_::Agreed,::_ Sides says grimly over the bond. Sides is angrier than he is, less scared. Sides' rage tastes like lightning on his tongue and Sunstreaker lets it take him over. No good soldiers are scared. Soldiers are angry and focused. His brother lets his rage consume him. Sunstreaker takes it and sharpens it like a blade. 

They still haven't found her and it's been a hundred and twenty-three seconds since the gunshot went off. They still feel Daphne's fear, feel the beating of her heart alongside their own sparks. 

He sprints by an alley and he glances across the street and sees a flash of blue and he's changed directions before he even registers it. Sides is right beside him, right where he's always been, always meant to be, and they're running. 

They can hear her struggling, but it's weak. There's no sparks of blue, there's just ruffled blue hair and a girl trying to fight back against four men. They reach the alley as one man punches her, two hold her, and another clamp a metal collar around her neck. 

She goes limp and her captors smile until they see Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

The battle is quick and bloody. 

The four men are unconscious on the ground, bloody and beaten, but alive, which is more than they deserve. His curls into a sneer as he looks at the pitiful organic sacks, his knuckles bruised, blood on his shoes. Sideswipe has only a few more bruises than he does, but he's knelt beside their ~~charge~~ Daphne. 

"D-daphne?" Sides stammers, cradling her limp head in his hands. The anger always leaves Sides in a rush. His brother is the first to feel it, the first to let it go, he cannot sustain a fire. Sunstreaker is always the last to feel it, but it stays with him for days, coating his teeth, making his eyes burn a white-blue, leaving him prone to sudden violence. This rage will not leave him for a while, but he's trying to find that fear, that concern again that's buried under layers and layers of rage. 

(This is the reason his fellow Autobots feel uncomfortable around him. They like Sides more because he can turn it off like a light switch, leaving behind smiles and charm. Sunstreaker cannot turn it on and off. He wishes he could ~~for her sake.)~~

She moans, her pupils blown wide, her eyes now black. "Get it off," she says weakly, a shaking hand pawing at the collar around her neck. "Please, get it off." This comes out as a half sob. 

Sides holds her as Streaker gently pries it off, careful not to trigger the locking mechanism that'll cause dozens of tiny pins to pierce her skin. She relaxes once it's off, gripping his brother's hand as tightly as she can. 

"Are you okay?" Sides asks gently. Sunstreaker cannot speak. If he speaks, he will be cursing her attackers, promising her heads, but that will not help her now. She needs his brother. His soft, charming, turn-it-off-like-a-switch, brother. 

"Yeah," she coughs and Sides runs his hands through her hair. A bruise is forming on her cheek. "I didn't inhale a lot, but enough that my powers are kaput. I"ll need to see an EMT for the anti-X meds. Are there some nearby?"

Sides responds by lifting her up in his arms. They can hear sirens in the distance. There's nothing they want more than to have her safe in their alt-modes, but they need to make sure she's safe. Her heads rests on his chest and Sides handles her with so much care than even Streaker is surprised. 

They take her to see the medics and Sides doesn't put her down for a second. 

He feels what he hopes is _only_ strong affection from his brother. 

He feels relief and trust and lethargy from Daphne. 

All he feels is rage. 

( ~~And he pretends he does not feel a drop of jealously.)~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daphne's home and she's exhausted. Bryce keeps looking at her like she expects her to break, but Daphne won't. She's been in the clutches of the Purifiers before and she's escaped for the second time. 
> 
> She's just tired. She doesn't feel scared anymore. There's the prickle of shame for not being able to protect her people. And then there's the ember of rage she feels in her stomach. 
> 
> She can't tell if she's feeling that, or it's Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Her heart warms at the thought of her silver Guardian. Who held her like she was coveted treasure and didn't set her down until she got home. 
> 
> Her Guardians aren't here. They left when they dropped her off and left her in the care of her teary-eyed housemates. 
> 
> God, she's tired. She snuggles into Bryce's side, the red head's arm tightening around her, and tries to fall asleep.


	15. interlude one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid trio reflects on some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a different chapter! It marks a shift from what I like to call our college au arc to the beginning of Daphne becoming an ambassador. We'll have one more chapter with our favorite housemates and then we'll have graduation. Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Arc 1- Introductions  
> Arc 2- College Au  
> Arc 3- Beginnings
> 
> Also I'm really pissed because I was almost done writing this and my computer crashed and I lost 2/3s of it ahaha

This is the story of a girl named Celestial.

She got her powers three weeks after her twelfth birthday. She was in the middle of a basketball game at recess when she suddenly collapsed onto the concrete, her eyes rolling back in her head as her body started to convulse. Her skin started to turn blue and the other kids ran away screaming. The school called the paramedics and then her parents. They tried to lift her up into the ambulance but her skin was so hot they had to call the firefighters. 

She didn't wake up for five days. She was put into a special ward for mutants and the doctors tried to reassure her frightened parents that their little girl was going to be okay. But her parents didn't know what to do. Her father kept a silent vigil next to her bed, her mother a crying mess beside him. 

"I don't think I can do it," her mother wept. 

"Do what?" her father asked, his voice tired and quiet. 

"Raise a mutant," she admitted quietly. The father stiffened. "I can't do it, David. My _ma ma_ called and said she found a school in New York for kids like Daph. They can help her try and be normal."

"Not normal," her father amended, brushing hair that was still stick straight and brown. "We're not going to try and force her to be normal, Christina. We send her to the school so she can be around people like her and she can learn to use her powers. She'll never be normal and you have to realize that."

The mother flinched. "Okay," she agreed. "Okay."

When Celestial woke up on day five, she looked in a mirror and realized her eyes were blue. She had been terrified and didn't recognize who was in the mirror. She didn't cry. That was her mother's job. On day ten, after being released from the hospital and told she was going to live in New York of all places, her father pointed out with a smile that the roots of her hair were blue. The same blue of her eyes. The same blue of the lightning that sparked off of her fingertips and shorted out the medical equipment. 

She got to New York and she was exhausted all the time. She liked the school, her classes, the teachers, the friends she made, but she was so tired. She was scared to touch people. Bad things happened when she touched them. If she touched them for too long, they became exhausted and she became wide awake. 

The Professor, a kind woman named Jean (who was the mother of her new best friend, Hope), and an intimidating woman named Wanda with an accent she had never heard before figured out what was wrong with little Celestial. She could control electro-magnetism (but those words meant nothing to her in that moment). It explained the electronics that kept breaking, the sudden exhaustion people felt if she touched them for too long. She didn't know how to take energy yet, only use her own, which explained the constant exhaustion. 

Under the tutelage of her three mentors, she learned to harness and use her powers. She liked how it felt, the near limitless energy, the slight buzzing under her skin, the flickering blue around her body. 

She came back the next school year with bright blue hair cut to her chin, a look of ferocity on her face that no twelve-year-old should have, and a charismatic passion that made people take a second glance. 

As she grew older, Celestial's powers grew as well. She was powerful. She could take an opponent down with a single look, blow something up with a gesture, protect herself with a thought. At fifteen, she learned to incase her body in living energy. At sixteen, the Professor told her she reached an Omega level of power. 

(Wanda warned her about their powers. The older woman whispered tales in her ear about women like themselves in dark forests or frozen tundras or lifeless deserts, about the magic they performed and the power they held. Wanda warned her that if she tried to take too much, her body could be licked up by flames that originated in her burning, beating heart, be consumed by the power they thought they could control. _But I'm an Omega,_ Celestial would say with a jut of her chin. _I'm unbeatable._ )

She was cocky. She liked feeling powerful, liked the phantom limb that kept her company all hours of the day. But she remained kind, remained passionate and loyal. She picked fights, sure, but it was always in defense of others. She was smart, the kind of smart that's kinda scary in the hands of a young kid.

The name Celestial fit her. She sometimes felt like she fell from the heavens with stardust in her veins and a faint, fleeting memory of wandering the stars in a never-ending journey. 

This is the story of a woman named Daphne Winters. 

She's not cocky anymore, the furthest thing from it. She was taught her powers were not limitless, that she could be brought to her knees by a piece of metal and the cry of a friend. But she's still kind, passionate, smart, loyal. 

She just knows more now.

Her powers are different now. The buzz is now a constant hum that she cannot escape. She can no longer pretend to be normal, pretend to be something she isn't. She knows the Allspark changed her, maybe even more than her friends are telling her. It's marked her, permanently, with raised scars on her forearms, the starburst on her palms. The white-blue ring surrounding her pupil seems to grow every day, threatening to swallow up her blue eyes. 

Blue.

That's what Sideswipe calls her. 

Does he know that she's changing? Does he know the color of her hair is changing? 

Somedays she feels something writhing under her skin, watch her veins light up. Sometimes she feels like she's a black hole that's going to consume everything around her. She remembers what it was like to hold the Allspark ( _power, stars, infinite, limitless_ ). She remembers what it was like to lose control when she was younger, watching people collapse when they touch her, the fear she felt that turned into curiosity as power filled her blood. She remembers how it felt to tear apart the 'Con that tried to ~~kill her~~ kill her Guardians, feel the whisper of something in her mind that was there but wasn't. 

She's changing and she knows it. 

She doesn't know if she needs to be afraid. 

She remembers learning about what happened to Jean by listening to the whispers of her classmates, the whispers of her teachers when they thought they were alone. _Jean was beautiful,_ they'd say. _When all that power flowed through her. Damn near killed Scott, but she was beautiful,_ they'd say. _Do you know what she said?_ someone else would ask. _I can never forget it. Never forget the look in her eyes. "I am power and life incarnate," she said. God, I can never forget it._

Somedays she thinks she knows what Jean meant. 

But she's not going to lose herself as Jean did. Jean had too much power that she didn't know what to do with, didn't know what she was capable of. But Daphne knows what she's capable of. And she's not going to lose herself. She has people who ~~love~~ care for her.

Her Guardians. 

When she thinks of them, her mind lights up in magentas and hello purples and ruby reds and white and blue and silver and gold. They fill her life with light. The bond between them feels like home, feels like it was always supposed to be there. Like they were always supposed to be there. 

They are kind to her, even with Sides' teasing and Sunny's grumpiness. They see her faults and accept her for them. They like her shy, like her confident. They found her when she was in the clutches of the Purifiers, sure she was going to have to fight her way out.

Sunny is still guarded. He has moments of purple panic and clay protectiveness. He wants to see her strong and powerful and capable. She likes seeing his hidden smiles, the brief, fleeting touches, the warmth of his gaze. But he is angry, angrier than she's ever been. No matter where they are, she feels it, the tiny seed of fire red rage. She's seen it form into an inferno of violence and anger and rage. Sometimes she worries that all that rage will be his ruin. 

Sides is a different story. She cannot tell the difference between his bubblegum pink flirtation and steel gray seriousness. It makes her feel uneasy but curious at the same time. She likes the twinkle in his eyes when he looks at her. She likes the curve of his smile. She likes watching him try to find his balance after transforming onto two wheels. She likes the comforting casualness of his touches, the knowledge he's only a call away. She likes him a lot. 

She wonders if her Guardians know that she's changing. 

She wonders if they see that she's a star on the brink of a supernova. 

~~~

Sideswipe is not the kind of mech who likes to sit around. He gets bored too easily. He gets bored and his brother gets angry. He had a reputation among the Autobots, of the flirt with the charming smile and a clever mind that you'd be lucky to catch. But, he got bored easily. His attention was held for a vorn or two by a pretty thing, and then his optic would be caught by another pretty thing and he'd be gone before you could say "wait!". It caused some problems in the past, some fights, but you could never catch him throwing the first punch. 

So, when Prime told him he'd be stuck babysitting some baby local, he had been incredibly unexcited. He got in trouble when was bored. Some bot would wake up painted bright pink, another would have his energon tainted, or their gun would be jammed by mysterious forces. Now, for these, he got caught. He didn't mind getting in trouble. Anything to distract from the frighteningly boring life he led that was peppered with fights that were over too quickly or bloody battles that lasted too long. 

So.

He was _not_ excited to be stuck on some rock in the middle of nowhere while babysitting a local when he could be kicking aft with Prime.

But, Daphne had surprised him in the best possible way. She met his teasing comment with an even wittier comment, immediately feeling scandalized afterward. That was one of the first things he noticed about her that made him feel like they'd get along; one, that she was kind, and two, she blushed under any circusmstances. 

He had never met a squishy before. She had been soft under his metal servos, but he could feel the corded muscle underneath. He noticed she ran two degrees hotter than other humans. He noticed her bright blue eyes that shined like a pair of Autobot optics, slightly upturned and almond-shaped. He noticed her short, unruly hair and he wondered what it would feel like.

Daphne told him that she sees them in colors after their bond snapped into place. She told him he was all silvers and yellows and oranges. He thought she'd be blue, bright blue, and royal purple and emerald green and tiger orange. In his optics, she pulsed with light and life and if wasn't careful, he knew he'd be consumed by it. 

He was never bored around her. That was a first for him. She was ever-changing and she kept changing every day and he kept noticing little things and he kept a list. He liked that she shined with passion and she never backed down from what she thought was right. He liked the way she talked, the musical quality of her life. He liked her smile and the way she blushed. He liked the way she listened and took him seriously. He liked that she treats him as an individual instead of one half of a whole, and end in himself. He liked-

_Oh._

Holy Primus.

Frag.

He likes _her._ His Blue. His charge. Daphne. 

He remembers what it was like holding her limp head in his human hands, the slow pulse of heart in his chest, the way her pupils swallowed up her iris, the way the anger was gone in a flash, and replaced with terror. He had never felt that kind of terror before, that someone who he cared for could die. 

He realizes that she's irreplaceable in his life. He doesn't know how he could go on without feeling her in his head, next to his spark, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. It is not enough to name her _beshami._

(Sideswipe wonders what she would be like as an Autobot. He thinks she'd be a Seeker and she would fly so high that no one could ever catch her. He wonders what it would have been like to meet her as an Autobot, as one of his own.)

He likes her, this is true. He doesn't know how much, though. He knows she doesn't bore him, which is an improvement over anyone else. 

So.

Where does this leave him?

He'll flirt. 

He'll charm.

He'll smile. 

He'll catch her eye and make her blush. He'll make sure that she knows that he means it. He'll watch and wait. 

(And he'll wait for Sunny to make his mind up.)

Maybe he doesn't have to be bored anymore. 

~~~

Sunstreaker is full of rage and no one knows why. No one knows why his spark is the brightest when he's in the middle of a battle and there's energon on his servos and his brother is by his side and the air is filled with the screams of their dying enemies. Ratchet thinks it's because of their stint in the gladiator arena and he was protecting his brother. His brother doesn't have that never-ending rage, though. 

He's jealous of his brother. No mech would have guessed that. Sunstreaker is the better fighter, has a higher number of kills, is preferred by Prime and Prowl. But he's jealous of his brother. Mechs fear him, but they respect his brother. Sideswipe is met with smiles while he is met with the inclination of helms. He's quick to anger, quick to put the fire out. Sunstreaker rages and ruins and rages and ruins until there's nothing left. 

He's been told he's guarded. He'd be inclined to agree. When people get to close, he gets guarded and his brother gets disinterested. But he's jealous of his brother. Sunstreaker has had midnight trysts but at least Sideswipe has had a relationship. He's told he's too cold, too distant. That they can't feel anything when he touches them. He accepts it, tries to hide the pain it causes him under layers and layers of rage and pain. Only Sideswipe knows this. Only Sideswipe is allowed to know this. 

His rage isn't as bad as it has been in the past. There were moments when he considered joining the Cons, trading in his blue for red. Maybe then he'd be accepted, praised for his rage. He only thinks that in his lowest moments, when he feels like he could be consumed by raging flames that originated in his burning, thrumming spark, swept away by emotions that he thought he could control. 

He confessed this to Prime the last time they were fighting with him. Prime took his confession with ease, his optics clear and sympathetic. And Optimus helped _him,_ Sunstreaker, the angry Youngling picked up from a gladiator arena and turned into a prizefighter. _Try to be still,_ Optimus told him gently. _Be stoic. Be as clear and silent and predictable as the night sky._

So he did that. He became stoic, he became clear and silent. He kept that ember of rage deep in his spark where only his brother could find it. He wiped his faceplates clear of emotion, followed orders, allowed himself to be lost in the rhythmic order of being an Autobot. (He allowed himself to let those feelings out in three situations, one, when he's on the battlefield, two, when he's alone with his brother, and, three, when he's painting.)

Sunstreaker didn't know what to feel when he met his tiny human charge. At first, she repulsed him, as all organics did, but he took the assignment with the grace required when you're given a task by a Prime. Then he grew only slightly impressed when he watched her (attempt) to fight Jazz, watched her strange EMF field. 

But she slowly weaseled her way under his guard. He knew she didn't do it on purpose. Growing close to him could only be considered luck or a mistake. He still wasn't sure how she felt about it.

But she weaseled her way in with smiles that were as vibrant as the ones given to his brother, with patience and attention to detail and a burning passion and dedication. She took all his snarkiness and stoicism with a roll of her eyes and a snippy comeback, listening to his gruff instructions intently. 

Daphne, unbelievably, wasn't afraid of him. Maybe it was because she didn't know the raging beast he kept on a tight leash. But even after the bond-

( _the bond the bond the bond, how he could he explain? The feeling of someone else grounding him, in contrast to his brother's easy, familiar presence, and his own sharp edges. She called him gold, but he thought he was more red. She'd describe herself as blue, but even if he couldn't see the colors she claimed, she was pink. The color of the blush on her cheeks, the faint splash of color in the morning, the color that had wrapped itself around his spark. If he wore to paint her, he'd only paint her in soft pinks and periwinkle blues_ )

-had exploded into life between them, she hadn't flinched away. He knew she felt it. Who couldn't? He wouldn't have blamed her. But she hadn't flinched, hadn't looked away, hadn't left him like every mech in the universe, beside his brother. 

He'd count her as a friend. As one of the only friends he had. He knew how Sideswipe felt, the seeds of want that had started to grow in his spark, but Sunstreaker didn't think he felt that way ~~yet.~~

He was comforted by her presence, amused by her smile. He was protective of her. She was his charge and he was her Guardian. He'd do anything and kill anyone to keep her safe. Not that she needed any protection. 

Primus, sometimes he forgot about the power she held. She didn't need him to protect her (except, maybe, from puny humans). He wished he could tell her. Wished he could rage at Prime for keeping that from her. But he couldn't. Not yet, at least. 

He wonders if she has an ember of rage as he does. He'd understand if she did. Pit, he'd support it.

He was looking forward to the day when she unleashed her powers. 

(Maybe he'd fall in love with her when he knew she was entirely herself and he could be entirely himself. No walls. Only pinks and golds. Maybe pinks and golds and silvers.)

(And maybe blues and reds.)


	16. i would go out tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl hangs out with friends.

It’s April 31st and she’s graduating in two weeks. 

Shit. 

The final semester of Daphne’s senior year went by in a flash, February blending into the end of April. She’d like to say she didn’t have lingering fear after the First… but, if she said that, she’d be lying. Every step she took, she felt like she had to look over her shoulder, scared someone would snatch her up and she would never be seen again. It felt like she was living under a cloud of lemon apprehension and lilac unease and pineapple excitement.

Her physical injuries were all healed, of course. Sideswipe had carried her to an EMT that had set was triaging for those who were injured, but didn’t need to go to the hospital. A few minutes after the antidote had been administered, she felt almost good as new. She could feel her powers again, feel her Guardians again, feel the massive headache setting in. 

As much as she tried to forget it and act as if nothing happened, her friends, and her enemies, didn’t let that happen. Bryce would wait for her outside of her classroom, the redhead scowling at anyone who came too close to her. Alan would walk her to class and Chantel would always stay up late waiting for her. Daphne swore she could sometimes see her Guardians’ holoforms around campus. When she asked them, they didn’t answer, but by the way Sunstreaker clenched his jaw and the hint of taffy guilt and canary amusement from Sideswipe. 

But their fears were warranted. She had woken up one morning and found Purifier pamphlets stuffed in their mailbox and “mutie” spray-painted across their door. She’d gotten angry voicemails on her phone, had a white van follow her, and Sideswipe home, had the cops called on her when she was on the beach. And the final straw had been being woken up in the middle of the night by a brick being thrown through the window. 

Her Guardians were taking this seriously. Her training with Prodigy increased from two days to five days a week. They shifted their focus from sharpening her powers to building her combat skills from the ground up. She’d go home from Prod’s, bruised and sweaty, eat, do homework, and then train more with her Guardians on the beach that they’d found. Her days passed in a haze of school and training and bruises and action, melting into each other. 

Besides the constant training and constant apprehension, there were some highlights in the final semester of her senior year. She was growing closer to Jazz. The silver Autobot taught her every day in the matters of history and diplomacy and the intricacies of Cybetronian culture. It was his idea to have her send reports on domestic and foreign politics to Autobot leadership every week. She kinda hated him for it, adding yet another task to her endless to-do list. But it was a glimpse into her future. After hearing her whine about, Sam and Josh at the White House kindly agreed to proofread the reports every week and give her pointers on the language, in exchange for the promise she was going to choose Havard. Which she did. So, she was going to attend the prestigious Havard law school in the fall… online, of course, from the middle of nowhere, Nevada.

With the little free time she had, Daphne spent them with her friends. Sam, Mikaela, and Bumblebee had visited the previous month, the yellow scout excited to see his fellow Autobots. Daphne was sure she had Mikaela sold on going to Berkeley, but Sam had set his eyes on Ivy Leagues. Mikael had fit right in with Daphne’s housemates, the younger girl taking a shine to Bryce. It wasn’t a surprise, given the similarities between the two. 

And she was spending a lot of time with her Guardians. 

Her Guardians. 

(They filled her world with color and light.)

Despite having a literal mental bond with them, they constantly confused her, Sideswipe confusing her the most. Her silver Guardian had changed since the First, growing slightly more protective, and… well, she wasn’t entirely sure. His brief hugs turned lingering, his fingers were always playing with her hair, his lips quirked into a flirtatious smirk. If he was in his alt-mode, the seatbelt was tight around her the whole time. If he was in his rootform, he was showing off, balancing on one-wheeled pede, or picking fights with Sunny. In his presence, her confusion turned to pink-cheeked flustering. When he was around her, she could feel his bubblegum flirtation intertwined with carnation affection and magenta want and ruby red sincereness. 

Sunstreaker was much of the same, a steady presence of jade protection and bumblebee exasperation, with the tiniest ember of fire red. He would touch her more often, a gentle tap on the shoulder or the hip. He trained her harder than before, constant surliness bubbling on the surface. 

“Daphne?” came Bryce’s voice. 

Daphne blinked, shifting in her chair. “Uh, yeah, what’s up?” she cleared her throat, looking up at her friend. 

They, the fearsome four (plus her Guardians waiting outside), were currently at a tattoo parlor, planning to get matching tattoos for Bryce’s birthday. When her friend had first suggested the idea, Daphne had exchanged a shocked glance with Chantel. It was unlike Bryce to pass up any opportunity to go out and party, but based off of the circles under her eyes cleverly covered with concealer, she simply did not have the energy to go out and party. 

The birthday girl was playfully scowling at her. “Daph, did you seriously just fall asleep? We left you here for like, three minutes.”

She blushed. “I guess, sorry,” she replied sheepishly, rubbing at her eyes. “Long nights, you know?”

“Oh,  _ I  _ know,” Chantel emphasized, her ebony skin complimented by the purple dress she was wearing. “I’m up until like two in the morning waiting for you to get home.”

“Oh, honey bun, what are you doing out so late with your two mysterious, incredibly gorgeous friends?” Alan teased, looping his fingers through the belt buckle of his overalls.

Daphne rolled her eyes, standing up and stretching. “Nothing inappropriate, I’m a child of God, Alan,” she shot back, smiling at the way her friend cackled. “They’re just showing me a few things.”

“I’d love for Sawyer to show me a thing or two,” Bryce said suggestively, wriggling her eyebrows. Despite the coldshoulder from her surly Guardian, Bryce continued to flirt and wink at him whenever she saw him. 

“Shut  _ up! _ ” Daphne hissed, hitting her friend on the arm, but unable to suppress her own smile. She couldn’t help it. Bryce had that effect on her. Beneath the outward layer of a party princess, Bryce was intuitive and kind and badass with an attitude, loyal until you proved otherwise. “Besides,” she added slyly, leaning against Bryce. “If Sawyer was going to show anyone a thing or two, it’d be  _ me. _ ”

The laughter that came out of her friends caused heads to be turned their way. “Atta girl!” Alan crowed, giving her a high five.

“Come on, you heathens, the tattoo artist is waiting for us,” Chantel said with a roll of her eyes, walking towards the back of the tattoo shop. Daphne followed, Bryce’s arm looped around her waist, her friend towering over her in a pair of high-heeled combat boots. Her long red hair was braided down her back, her amber eyes sparkling against the gold eyeshadow she wore. Compared to her friends, Daphne was criminally underdressed, but she didn’t mind, neither did her friends. She was too tired to wear high heels or makeup, preferring a loose pair of denim shorts, a cropped Berkeley shirt, and a black bandanna to keep her hair back. 

The tattoo artist didn’t seem much older than them, seemingly shy as he patted the table in front of them. Bryce laid down, sending him a bright smile. “Can I see the template before you put it on?”

“O-of course,” he stuttered, pushing up a pair of thick-framed glasses. He held up his tablet for them to see and Daphne smiled when she saw it. It was a simple wave in dark, ocean blue that they all planned to get on their ribs. Sure, it was small, and not incredibly complicated, but it meant something, and that’s all that mattered. 

“Looks perfect,” Daphne murmured, peering over Alan’s shoulder. 

“Ditto,” Bryce replied. “Slap it on me.”

Daphne held Bryce’s hand as the artist carefully placed the stencil, Chantel and Alan looking through a book of flash tattoos. Her friend suddenly hissed as the artist started and she squeezed Daphne’s hand tightly. 

“You’re doing great, B,” she reassured, smirking slightly. 

“Do shut up, Daph,” Bryce hissed and even the artist let out a chuckle. Daphne’s eyes started to wander, fixing on the piercing station across from them. She always wanted to get her nose pierced, get tattoos, decorate her body with what she chose, not what her mutation chose for her. “You should do it,” Bryce said, following her eyes. 

“Really?” she asked. “You think a nose piercing would look good on me?”

“Of course,” Bryce scoffed. “You look hot in everything.”

“You’re just lying, I know it. And I don’t know about it, my  _ ma ma  _ would be pissed about it.”

“You’re mom’s already gonna be pissed about this tattoo.”

“If she actually sees it,” she pointed out and Bryce snorted, the artist placing a steadying hand on her ribs. 

“You should just do it. You’ve talked about getting a piercing since I’ve known you. You’re not a kid anymore, so you don’t need your mom’s permission. You’re gonna look hot and you know you’re gonna like it. Do it for me since it’s my birthday,” Bryce declared quickly, her red lips pressed into a pout.”

Daphne laughed, shifting in her seat. “Fine, you’re right. I’ll get it after we’ve all gotten our tattoos done.”

“Good, you’re gonna look  _ soooo  _ hot,” Alan drawled behind her, and the two friends exchanged a smile. 

“Thanks, Alan,” Daphne replied, wincing slightly as Bryce squeezed her hand again. 

The tattoo artist sat up, gently wiping at her ribs. “Alright, I think you’re done.”

Bryce sat up slowly, peering at herself in the movie. “I love it,” she said quietly, a small smile spreading across her face. “You did an amazing job.” The artist blushed, starting to clean the table as Bryce got up. She swayed slightly and Daphne placed a steadying arm on her shoulder. 

“You alright, B?” she asked in concern. 

“Yeah, I just think I need a little air, is that okay?” Bryce asked the artist. 

“Um, yeah, that’s fine. Just come in if you’re feeling a little faint.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll step outside and be back in time to hold your hand while you get tattooed, okay?” Bryce smiled. 

Daphne smiled back. “Sounds good.”

~~~

Bryce Quinlan breathed in deeply as she stepped outside of the shop. She hadn’t been entirely truthful when she told Daphne she needed some air. In reality, she was using this opportunity to interrogate the two men who had been Daphne’s shadow since she returned from that disastrous trip from Mission City. 

See, Bryce had the “gift.” Yeah, she was aware how incredibly stupid she sounded, like some young mom of the antichrist in a horror movie. But, that was the best way she, and her family, could describe it. She wasn’t a mutant, thank God. Hey, no hate toward mutants, but she could not deal with constant terror and panic that came with being a mutant. Her family was something… different. 

The women in her family had a sixth sense. They could tell if a woman was pregnant, pick out the adulterer from a crowd, find out who was in love with who, predict an accident before it happened, and find others like them, those who had something extra, like mutants. 

When Bryce first met Daphne, she glowed like a dying star, pulsing with light and life, her eyes twinkling with a thousand constellations. Bryce knew her friend was powerful, could practically feel it pouring off of her blue waves. Daphne was the brightest mutant she had ever met, and everyone else paled in comparison to her. (At first, Bryce wanted to date her, but they were only meant to be friends.)

Bryce wasn’t blind or stupid, despite what everyone thought of her. She knew Daphne’s boys weren’t mutants from the first time she met them. She didn’t even need her gift to know her friend was lying, Bryce could see it in the way Daph stuttered over their names, avoided eye contact, and blushed pink. So, no  _ shit,  _ Daph was lying. Bryce just couldn’t figure out why. (Okay, maybe she was a little hurt, scratch that,  _ very  _ hurt that her best didn’t trust her with the truth.)

They didn’t feel entirely human. They didn’t feel like they belonged here, as in Earth, as in the third planet from the solar system. They belonged somewhere else entirely and she didn’t like them around sweet, kind, naive Daphne. Bryce knew they were dangerous, just from looking at them. Death surrounded them, especially the angry one, Sawyer. It was like they wore it like a cloak, blocking out anything she could sense from them. 

So, Bryce did what she did best: flirt. People liked to call her a ditz or a party princess or shallow. But they only saw what they wanted to see. Sometimes it was easier to play the role of a heavy-lidded sorority girl than getting whispered about for being headstrong and talkative. 

So, she flirted and watched and listened and observed. She watched to see if Daph ever looked afraid or like she was in danger, but she never did. Her blue-haired bestie acted as if she trusted them, liked them. Bryce could see her pretty friend fall in love with the two brothers. 

Even though Sawyer acted like he couldn’t care less or Silas acted as if he was a flirtatious blowhard, Bryce knew they liked her friend (also were those their real names? She highly doubted it). She intended to find out what their intentions were with Daph. 

Relaxing her shoulders and jutting her chin up, she marched over to the bench where the two brothers sat, motionless like statues. Creepy. Sawyer immediately stiffened, sitting up straight. “Relax, hothead,” she calls. “I’m not gonna flirt with you.”

He crossed his (gorgeous, freckled, dark brown) arms, glaring at her. “You,” he growls 

Her lips split into a smile as she walked over, her heels clicking against the pavement. “Yes,  _ me _ ,” she emphasized. “I’ve got some questions.”

Silas watched them curiously, running a hand through his silver hair. “Whatcha want, Red?” he asks. 

She stopped in front of them, shifting her weight to one foot. “You’re not mutants,” she states, her tone leaving no room for disagreement. 

They exchanged a glance.  _ Yeah, I got you, you mysterious little fuckers,  _ she thought smugly to herself, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re asking,” Silas says slowly, his strange electric blue eyes wide behind his glasses. 

“I’m not asking anything, yet at least not yet. I’m just saying the jig is up. I know you and Daph are lying to me. You’re not mutants. And I don’t think you’re human either.” Bryce liked confronting people. It gave her a little thrill when she held the truth over people, when all the power lay in her hands. 

Sawyer has a calculating look on his face, cocking his head. “What do you think you know?” he mutters. “Besides, of course, how to get blackout drunk.”

She feels her cheeks heat up and she bristles. “Listen up, you little shit,” she hisses, pointing a finger in his face. Silas stiffens and fear flashed across his face. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, and I don’t know who the fuck you think I am. But I know I could kick your ass two ways to Sunday and I wouldn’t have a hair out of place. So I’m gonna ask you again. Who are you and what the hell do you want with my best friend?”

Sawyer stares her down, his face blank, and she can see him tense. She sees his muscles rippling, see the ember of rage in his eyes and she suddenly feels incredibly stupid. “Get your oily little squishy finger the  _ frag  _ out of my face before I break it off and make you eat it,” he growls. 

“Sunny,” Silas warns lowly, his eyes flickering to hers. 

Bryce isn’t stupid. She’s strong and experienced and can put a .22 together in seconds, but she isn’t stupid. She knows when to back down. And this one of those moments. 

She slowly straightens up and backs away a few steps. “Good girl,” Sawyer mocks, his hands clenched into fists. He smoothly stands up and even her heels, he still towers her. “Now, what is it you wished to ask?”

She swallows, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “W-what do you want with Daph? I just don’t want her feelings to get hurt,” she says and her voice is so soft it’s almost a whisper.

He laughs. “First, it’s none of your business,” he states. “Second, it’s none of your business. And third, I’m only going to say this because I know it’s gonna make you mad.  _ My  _ Daphne isn’t your best friend. I know so much more about her than you ever will or ever could.” She wants nothing more than to punch him right in that stupid, handsome, jerk face but she restrains herself. 

“We’re keeping her safe,” Silas chimes in. She had almost forgotten he was there in her pissing contest with the angry brother. He sounded earnest, at least. “That’s all we want.”

“You sure that’s all you want?” she asks, finding her voice. “I’ve seen the way she looks, seen the way you look at her.”

They exchange another meaningful glance and Silas looks sheepish. “If there was ever mutual interest, I’d treat her with all the respect and care she deserves,” he replies, ignoring the sharp look his brother sends him. “But there isn’t.”

Bryce scoffs, stepping further away from Sawyer. “Sure, whatever you say.” She pauses, looking down at her feet. “But keep her safe, you know, once school is over.”  _ Because I won’t be there,  _ she adds silently. 

Silas’ face softens. She always liked him better, even if his brother was hotter. He was less scary and she could talk to him without being threatened with bodily harm. “Of course,” he promises. 

“Yeah,” Sawyer agrees gruffly. She can still the anger that clings to him, pulsing in his eyes. “And Bryce?” he adds, the fire in his eyes growing. “If you tell Daphne any of this, I’ll kill you.” He flashes her his teeth, white and pointed. 

Bryce hopes Daphne knows what she’s doing and she’s chosen the good guys. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bryce is quite on the drive home. Alan drives them home in her flashy car and the birthday girl is staring out the window. 
> 
> "You okay?" Daphne asks in concerns. 
> 
> The redhead flashes her a fake smile. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I'm just hoping things aren't fucked."


	17. how soon is now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl graduates.

Daphne carefully set the dark blue cap on her head, adjusting it so it didn’t smush her bangs. Today was the day. The day she graduated, ending one chapter of her life and beginning another. She smiled at herself in the mirror, ignoring the butterflies fluttering in her stomach and the violet anxiety she was sure was radiating off of her. 

She wasn’t anxious about the ceremony or her valedictorian speech. She had practiced it until she was sure her tongue was going to fall out with Sam over FaceTime. The speechwriter had assured her she sounded practiced but sincere, excited but serious. She started murmuring it under her breath as she applied a thick coat of mascara under her falsies. 

She didn’t quite know what she was anxious about. It could be the fact that her family, her friends, her Guardians, a few Autobots, and a few senior staff members to the president were all going to be in the same place and she couldn’t explain the existence of one half to the other. It could be the fact she had to continually lie to her family and friends about her post-undergrad plans (the current cover story was an internship for the Department of Defense which raised a few eyebrows, due to Daphne’s well-documented pacifism and criticism of the military-industrial complex). It could be the fact last week an envelope full of pictures taken from the roof over of her in her bedroom appeared on their welcome mat along with a singular bullet (she didn’t tell her Guardians, they were already stressed enough). It could be the fact she had no idea what she was going to do as the Autobot Ambassador or if she was actually going to be good at the job. It could be the fact she was petrified of leaving her best friends and starting a job where the only people she really knew were the people in charge and a bunch of robots. 

In short, she had a lot to be worried about, which didn’t include her speech. 

Daphne hears the door creak open and she turns to see Sideswipe leaning against the doorframe, gently smiling. “Hey,” he says quietly. The afternoon sun through her open window turns his brown skin afire.

“Hi,” she replies, fixing her cap. “How do I look?” she asks with a smirk. In reality, she didn’t need the reassurance, but she liked it. She was wearing a frilly white dress with small yellow flowers that matched the yellow of her sash. It was off the shoulder with billowing sleeves and she paired it with yellow heels, shimmery gold eyeshadow, and bright pink blush. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs with sunset appreciation and carnation affection and mint sincerity. The pink of her embarrassment matched the pink of her blush. 

“I- uh, thanks, Sides,” she mumbles, rocking on her heels. He looks nice himself, in a pair of khakis and a partly unbuttoned navy blue shirt.

“Though,” he starts, walking towards her. Her eyes go wide as he stands inches before her, his blue eyes serious. He starts to run a finger over her collarbone, down her arm, reaching under her long sleeves and tracing her burns. “I think you’re even more beautiful with your scars, Blue. They make you more unique.”

She inhales sharply as he continues, his fingers trailing down her forearm, encircling her wrist. “Oh, yeah?” she asks breathlessly. “I’m not unique as it is with the blue hair and weird eyes?”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling as he looked down at her. This was a different side of Sideswipe (ha, pun!) that she wasn’t used to seeing. “I like them. Marks you as one of ours.”

“One of ours?” she questions, tilting her head.

“Autobots,” he clarifies, and she could detect a hint of pecan possessiveness. “They’re very distinct. I can feel the Allspark energy when I do this,” he adds, his thumb circling the starburst on her palm.

“Oh,” she swallows, dumbfounded. 

The familiar canary yellow amusement entered the chat as he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’re not feeling anxious anymore, are you?”

She blinks, still slightly dumbfounded. “Uh, no?” 

Sides laughs, stepping back slightly, but keeps his hand around her wrist. His fingers ware cool against her skin, slightly callused. “Good, Sunny, and I could feel it out in the living room.”

She swats him, starting to pull away from him but he kept ahold of her. “You fucking flirt, Sides!” she hisses. 

“You know, many mechs and femmes would have killed to have me flirt with them,” he teases with a smirk. 

“You think oh so highly of yourself, you preening ostrich,” she shot back. 

He blinks and she smiles at the confusion on his face. “I uh, have no idea what you just said, Blue. You feeling okay?” he asks, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Wow, you’re so hot! Must be because I raised the temperature.”

“Sides!” she laughs. “God, you’re really something.”

“I know,” he smiles. He entwines his fingers with hers. “But I’m being serious. You look beautiful. You have nothing to worry about. You’ve practiced this speech more than Ratchet has tried to kill me, which is a lot. You’re gonna do amazing.”

“Thanks, Sides,” she says. “I like, really needed to hear that.”

“I know,” he replies, bringing her in for a hug, quickly letting go when she hisses. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, gently rubbing her ribcage. “Just that big fucking bruise you gave me when we were sparring like a week ago.”

“Ouch, I’m mean, aren’t I?” he jokes, biting his lip slightly. It’s unfair that people say Sunstreaker is the hotter brother. Sunny’s more conventional, bad boy attractive, with bulging muscles, darker hair, and a scowl. But Sides is prettier, in the lead guitarist of a band kind of way, with a sharp jawline, longer hair, and playful eyes. Sometimes she feels caught up in the illusion that Sides might like her when he flirts and touches her, and his eyes spark with something dark and not so innocent. 

She swallows, feeling a wave of magenta want. “Totally,” she says breathlessly. 

He studies her, his blue eyes dark. “Let’s go meet Sunny. We don’t want you to be late for your own graduation.” He says this with a smile and an air of passivity, but she can feel his silver presence press against the bond, searching for something.”

“Sounds great,” she agrees quickly, sweeping a piece of hair behind her ear. “Let me just grab my gown and purse real quick,” she adds, pulling away from him. But her hand remains in hers as she grabs her stuff from the bed. He only lets go to help her put on the dark blue gown and yellow sash and grabs her hand again. 

He pulls her out of her room to the living room and she’s smiling the whole time. Sunny’s lounging on the couch, watching a baseball game. Her housemates went out for celebratory shots before heading to graduation, which she refused, on account of the fact she has to give a speech. 

_ God it’s unfair they’re this hot when they’re human and so fucking elegant when they’re robots,  _ she thinks to herself, scrunching her nose. Sunny, as usual, is looking hot, wearing a pair of dark-washed blue jeans that bulge at the thigh and a red button-down. 

“Sunny-”

“Do  _ not  _ call me that when we meet Daph’s parents or I will slash your tires.”

“Primus, so violent, but doesn’t our Blue look so pretty?” Sides asks, twirling her.

“Tada!” she giggles, holding out her arms. 

Sunny glances up from his game, his eyes falling on her. He looks her up and down-  _ brick red pride, magenta want, carnation affection _ \- his face blank. “Looks nice,” he mumbles, but his eyes don’t flicker back to the TV. 

“Doesn’t she?” Sides coos. “Our little Blue is growing up.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve known me for like, six months, Sides.”

“Whatever, semantics,” he replies with a wave of his hand. He steps away from her and sits next to Sunny on the couch. They compliment each other, silver to gold, golden brown to dark brown, playfulness to stoicism. “We’ve got something for you, right, Sunny?

“Two somethings,” Sunny clarifies, sitting up on the couch. “Jazz said the first thing was an inappropriate graduation gift so now you have two gifts.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything,” she says nervously. 

Sunny dismisses her with a sharp glance. “Of course we did. You’re our charge and you’re graduating.” He reaches down to the ground and pulls up a festively wrapped package. He catches her smiling at the wrapping. “David helped with the wrapping.”

“That explains it,” she replies. 

Sides gestures for her to come closer and hands her the gift. “Here. Happy graduation, Blue. We’re proud of you.”

“Extremely proud,” Sunny adds, uncharacteristically gentle. 

She hesitantly starts to unwrap the gift. She has no idea what it is, still shocked they even got her anything. Daphne gasps as she picks up the first gift, a beautiful dagger that shimmers in the sunlight. “Holy shit,” she whispers, balancing it in the hand. “I’m guessing this is the gift Jazz thought was inappropriate?”

Sides laughs and Sunny rolls his eyes. “Yeah,” Sunny grumbles. “I thought it was the perfect gift since I want to start weapons training as soon as we get to Jasper.”

“And I thought it was stupid so the other thing is from me,” Sides chimes in. His gift is a silver necklace, with a blue star-shaped pendant hanging off of it. 

“Thanks, Sides, it’s so pretty,” she remarks, running her fingers over it. “Could you put it on for me?”

“Of course, turn around,” he instructs and she does just that. He gently moves her hair out of the way and she shivers slightly as his fingers graze her neck as he puts it on. “Looks nice on you,” he says once she turns around. 

“I love it and I love the dagger too, Sunny. Probably can’t take it into graduation, though,” she adds, and Sunny chuckles, his eyes on the necklace that hangs between her breasts. “Thanks, guys.”

“You’re welcome,” they say in unison. 

“You ready to go?” Sunny asks, standing up and stretching. 

She smiles. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

~~~

It’s hot in her polyester gown and she can feel the sweat dripping down her spine. The heat is radiating off of the football turf and she’s sure she’s gonna have a sunburn after this. She’s trying to pay attention as CJ, a Berkeley grad, gives the commencement speech. It’s a good speech, way better than the speech Daphne gave right before. She’s actually a little pissed that CJ’s speech is so good, given they probably had the same people helping them. Daphne spoke about their generation is the one to fight injustice, while CJ’s taking a more personal approach. 

Anyways. 

It’s way too hot for her to pay much attention. But it’s a good speech. CJ catches Daphne’s eyes every now and then in the front row. CJ isn’t sweating at all in her suit, elegant and poised. The older woman is everything Daphne wishes she could be and more. Confident, well-spoken, respected, sure of herself, unafraid of anyone besides the president. 

Daphne tunes in as CJ ends her speech. “... it was my privilege to speak to you all today. Remember, it takes only one person, one great idea, to change the world. Thank you, and go Bears!” Daphne starts the standing applause, jumping out of her seat, cheering for her. CJ looks a little taken aback but blushes in the praise. 

CJ sends her a wink as she walks off the stage. The chancellor takes the stage and starts the process of calling students up for their diplomas. Even with her status as valedictorian, with the last name Winters, Daphne was going to be waiting for a while. 

She smiles as her classmates went by, high fives the ones she knew, cheers for her friends, stood up, and applauds for her best friends. Alan seemed to glow as he pranced across the stage, his head held high when he got his diploma. Chantel looked pictured perfect, wearing her cap as a beret, her brown skin shining in the afternoon sun. And then there was Bryce. Beautiful, sweet Bryce. When the sun struck her hair, it looked like it was on fire. She was confident, radiating joy at a feverish pitch, her lips spread into an unchecked smile. When she got her diploma, Bryce’s eyes met Daphne’s and a thousand words were spoken between them with a look. 

And then her row was standing up and it was showtime. Daphne wipes her sweaty hands on her gown, breathing in deeply as she mounted the stage. She could do this. She was going to do this. She has graduated in four years with a perfect GPA, friends who loved her, an exciting job set up, and the kindling of want in her heart. 

“Daphne Winters.” Her name was called and she could hear the cheers of the crowd, and if she paid close enough attention, she could hear the whoops of Bryce. The chancellor smiles as she hands Daphne the diploma. “Congratulations, dear. I’m sure you’ll do great things.”

“Thanks,” she whispers back and she feels as if her smile could split her cheeks. She manages to get back to her seat in a daze, clutching her diploma in her hands. That was it. She had done. She had graduated. 

She carefully opens her diploma once her row sits down, running her fingers over her name.  _ Daphne Winters,  _ it reads.  _ Bachelor of Political Science.  _

She’s done it. She’s graduated. Even though Jean had always worried she’d never fit in with humans. Even though she was outed by a bunch of frat guys for being mutants and had a rotting fish placed in her dorm room. Even though she was outed by a sorority girl for being bi. Even though her first boyfriend had left her broken-hearted in the cafeteria after cheating on her with an anti-mutant “activist.” Even though she had found herself in the middle of an alien war. Even though she had been attacked by Purifiers. Even though she had balanced more on her plate that she thought was impossible. 

But here she was with a degree in her hands and a smile on her face. 

Throwing her cap in the air had been exhilarating. As soon as they had been dismissed by the chancellor, Bryce barrels into her with a hug. “We did it, Daph!” she shouts, lifting Daphne up and spinning her in a circle. “We fucking graduated!”

“We fucking graduated!” she echoes through laughter, holding onto Bryce for dear life. Bryce is still carrying her when they find Alan and Chantel and they hold onto each in a group hug. Daphne’s legs are around Bryce’s hips, her arms around Chantel, her face buried in Alan’s neck. “I’m gonna miss you guys so much,” she gets out. 

“Fuck, Daph, you can’t start now,” Alan sniffs. “If you start crying then I’m gonna start crying.”

“And then I will too,” Chantel pouts, her hands gripping onto Daphne’s gown. 

“And if all you bitches are crying, then I will be too, and  _ then  _ my makeup is ruined and I’ll have to kill all of you,” Bryce threatens, but Daphne can feel her chest shudder. 

They break apart with a laugh, Daphne sliding onto the ground. She looks at her friends for a moment, closing her eyes and letting herself get swept up in them. Alan’s blue giddiness, Chantel’s purple steadiness, Bryce’s red fierceness. Her beautiful, intelligent, glowing friends. She can almost imagine their emotions bubbling through their veins, spilling into their skin with bursts of color. 

She opens her eyes and sees she’s doing just that, her skin almost glowing with blue. Her friends are looking at her with a gentle smile as if she’s the north star and she laughs. “I gotta go find my family, guys. Meet you in the parking lot in like an hour?”

“Yes ma’am!” Chantel salutes with a smile. 

“Time to get  _ fucked  _ up one last time!” Alan hoots and Bryce rolls her eyes. 

“And I’ll be the one babysitting,” she grumbles, but Daphne can see the mirth in her waves. 

Waving goodbye, Daphne makes her way through the crowd, standing up on her tiptoes. In the distance, she can see the telltale orange glow of Jean’s and Hope’s hair, and the tall figure of her father.

“Hope!” she calls, pushing past a family. Hope’s head pops up, waving her over. Her friend meets her halfway there, picking her up in a hug that reminded Daphne of the one Bryce gave her. 

“Congrats, C!” Hope squeals, squeezing her tightly. Her orange magic whispers a familiar hello, wrapping her in an embrace that will always be home. “You did it! You graduated!”

“I fucking know, right?” she exclaims with a grin, breaking away. 

“I like the necklace. It’s cute.” Hope fixes her cap as her parents and grandmother greet her, Jean waiting in the background. 

“Congrats, sweetie,” David Winters says, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She didn’t look like her dad that much. He was whiter than her, taller, his face more angular than hers. But they shared their smile, warm demeanor, and the love of reading. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo. Your speech was great.”

“Thanks, Dad. I was really worried I was gonna mess up, even though I practiced it like a hundred times,” she confesses. 

“You? Mess up? Never,” he scoffs. “I liked your speech way more than Cregg’s.”

“David, stop hogging Daphne. Her  _ nai nai  _ and I want to say hello,” her mom says behind him and Daphne struggles to hide her grin. Her mom is five feet and two inches of whoop-ass, a kind of righteousness she got from Daphne’s  _ nai nai.  _ But, she also worries more than a new mother, prone to fits of anxiety, and is the most loyal woman Daphne’s ever met. Daphne thinks her mother is beautiful, with long, dark hair, skin a warm beige, and amber eyes. Christina Winters’ gaze softens when they see her. “There’s my baby girl!”

“Hi, Mom,” she says, hugging her gently. When she first got her powers, she was sure her mom hated her. As soon as she returned from Xavier’s, her mom was back to her loving self, buying Daphne new clothes to match her new hair color. “Hi,  _ nai nai.  _ How was the flight?”

Her  _ nai nai  _ is looking lovely in a pale pink dress, her hair artfully braided on top of her head. “Good,  _ ah lan,  _ very good. Your nice friend braided my hair.”

Daphne looks over at Hope, who looks quite pleased with herself. “It looks amazing,  _ nai nai.  _ I’m so happy you’re all here.”

“We’d never miss it, Daph,” Jean chimes in, flashing her a bright smile. “Wanda wanted to be here, but she sends her love.”

“Tell her I miss her,” she replies. “Wanna see my diploma?”

“Of course,” her dad says, quickly snatching it out of her hands before she could offer it. The adults crowd around him and Hope drifts back to her side, leaning against her. 

“So proud, C,” Hope murmurs, throwing an arm around her. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”

She rolls her eyes, throwing an elbow into Hope’s side. “Oh, shut it, you. You’re just jealous of this amazing color scheme,” she says sarcastically, gesturing to the slightly clashing blue and yellow. 

“Oh totally,” Hope replies. “Colors only a mother could love.”

Daphne snorts and Hope grins. She glances down at her phone, knowing she still had people to see and alcohol to drink. “Hey Mom, Dad,  _ nai nai. _ ” All three look up in quick succession. “I’ve got other friends to thank for coming and I’ve gotta catch my housemates for one last hurrah.”

“Sounds good, sweetie. You want us to hang onto your diploma?” her dad asks. Her  _ nai nai  _ looks at it greedily, and Daphne already knows a copy will be hanging up the next time she visits.

“Yeah, thanks. See you tomorrow for breakfast?” 

“Yup, I made all the reservations. Don’t have too much fun, now,” Hope adds with a grin. “Light it up, C.”

“Light it up,” she replies, kissing her friend on the cheek and getting final hugs from her family as she walks away. 

Now to find her government friends and her alien friends. 

She finds Josh, Sam, and CJ near the exit and it’s a quick interaction. 

“Hey, congrats, Daph,” Josh says, pulling her into a hug. 

“Excellent speech. We’ll make a politician out of you yet,” Sam adds with a grin, 

She blushes. “Thanks, guys, but my success is due to your help. CJ’s speech was way better.”

CJ waves her off. “Mine’s cookie-cutter forgettable. You took the time to advocate for something important. They’ll remember that.”

Daphne grins. “Thanks, CJ. That means a lot.”

“Wish we could stay longer, but we gotta high-tale it out of here,” Josh admits reluctantly, rocking on his heels. “The President and Leo-”

“Toby, too,” Sam adds quickly. 

“-yeah, Toby too, all send their well-wishes, but we gotta get going. Say hi to the Bots for us?”

“Will do. Thanks for coming. It means a lot you all came here,” Daphne replies, and she wonders if they can see the sincerity and eagerness in her expression.

Sam softens. “Of course, Daphne. You’re an amazing, talented kid and you’re gonna do great things.”

She waves goodbyes and goes about finding her final group of friends. This part is easy. She follows the invisible thread wrapped around her heart to her Guardians. They’ve practiced this a few times, playing hide and seek in the city, only following the bond. And most times it works. 

The mismatched group is standing under the shade of the bleachers. When she finds them, she knows her Guardians can feel her pulling. They’re standing at attention (looking unfairly attractive), their heads on a swivel until they find her. 

Sunny meets her eyes and an actual fucking smile spreads across his face. It’s beautiful and her breath hitches as she walks over to them.

Bluestreak is the first to greet her, his blue hair in spikes. “Hi, Daphne! Wow, I’ve never seen this many humans before and I didn’t know you guys came in so many  _ colors.  _ And your speech was very good, it sounded like one of Optimus’ before we go into battle. Oh, hey, did you know that Sunny actually started to tear up-”

“Okay, that’s  _ enough,  _ Bluestreak,” Sunstreaker growls, the smile disappearing off of his face as he body-checks the other Autobot. Daphne is already laughing, hugging Jazz and Bumblebee who are watching on bemusedly. 

Sideswipe gathers her up in his arms, snatching her cap off of her head and putting it on. It sits crooked on top of his silver hair, but she makes no move to fix it. “Oh, he totally cried, Lil Blue. It was really funny.” He lets her go with a gentle squeeze but keeps on arm around her. Jazz and Bumblebee exchange a meaningful glance, one she can't glean the meaning of. 

Sunny let out a long-suffering sigh and she laughs again. “I’ll take your word for it, Sides. And thanks, Blue, I was really nervous to give it,” she adds. “I’m happy you guys are here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetspark,” Jazz drawls, tipping his imaginary hat. “Optimus wishes he could have come, but he needed tah stay on base.”

“And Sam got grounded and Mikaela had to work,” Bumblebee chimes in. “They send their congratulations.” 

“Tell them thanks. I’m just glad to see anybot came. I wasn’t expecting anyone, honestly,” she admits. 

“Thank yah Guardians. They insisted we come,” Jazz replies, amused. 

“I insisted  _ they  _ come, not Bluestreak,” Sunny corrects with a smirk. 

“Hey!” Bluestreak complains, crossing his arms. His pale cheeks start to grow red. “Daphne wants me here, right?”

“Of course,” she reassures. “Sunny’s just a jackass.” The Autobot in question scowls, flicking her on the arm. She sticks her tongue out at him and his scowl deepens. 

“Can confirm,” Sides adds cheekily.

“You have plans for tonight?” Bumblebee asks her, ignoring the glare Sunny is sending Sides’ way. 

“Yeah,” she says. “One last night on the town with my friends before I’m stuck on the base with a bunch of soldiers and thousand-year-old robots.”

Jazz pouts. “Come on, lil lady, Ah know yah do not mean that. Yah love our lessons, right?” Her hesitation answers his question and everyone laughs. 

“It will be so much fun to have you on base! I think you’ll really like the soldiers who are assigned to me. They’re mutants, too,” Bluestreak says excitedly. He’s always reminded her of a golden retriever, incredibly excitable and kind, but prone to quickly changing the subject. But Sideswipe (and Sunstreaker reluctantly) is friends with him and has regaled her with stories of Bluestreak’s skill with a rifle

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. They’re brothers from Alaska. Yancy is super strong and fast, and Raleigh can move things with his mind.”

Daphne exchanges a glance with Jazz. They've talked about forming an all mutant unit within NEST, and these two brothers from Alaska seemed perfect. “They sound cool, Blue. You gotta introduce me once I’m on base.”

He grins. “Of course!”

Sideswipe nudges her. “Don’t you have a party to get to? I’ll drive.”

She hesitates, feeling the tiniest kernel of royal purple reluctance from her Guardians. “Why don’t you guys just stay here?” she suggests. They immediately stiffen up. “I’ve been working on my hand to hand skills, and I probably won’t get drugged with any X, so I’ll have my powers in case I run into trouble. You guys would only be a call away.”

Jazz looks at her curiously while her Guardians have a silent conversation. “Ah think yah should do it,” he says suddenly. 

Sunny looks over at him. “Are you serious, Jazz? She was almost squished by a Con-”

“Hey! I fought him off!”

“And she almost got fragging kidnapped,” Sides finishes. Huh. She’s surprised by his reaction, usually on the side of ‘the more fun the better’.

“But that was months ago, mechs. Ah think our lil Daphne can take care of herself, right?” Jazz replies evenly. 

“Come hang with us, Sides, Sunny. We haven’t seen you guys in months and Bumblebee needs to stretch his wheels,” Bluestreak whines. 

“This is true,” Bumblebee admits bashfully. 

“Come one, guys, I’ll be fine!” Daphne says, pushing amber reassurance and mint sincerity. She can take care of herself, she’s not scared of no Purifier hiding in the shadows. 

Sides glances at Sunny who sighs. “Fine,” he relents. “But you have to text us every hour until you head home, okay!”

“Yes!” she squeals, jumping up and down. Look, she loves her Guardians, they’re fun to be around, but not fun in a club setting. Too often they scare off potential dance partners with glares that leave her alone for the rest of the night. 

She takes off her gown and sash, handing them both to Sides. “Have fun and be safe Lil Blue,” he says sincerely. 

She flashes them a wide grin. “You know it. I’ll see you all tomorrow!” she says, waving as she runs off. 

~~~

It’s a few hours later when Sunstreaker gets a phone call. “Hello?” he answers

_ [If yah don’t get off the phone, you’re gonna lose, Sunshine,]  _ Jazz mocks over comms as they speed across the highway. 

_ [Shut up, it’s Daphne,]  _ he shoots back. 

_ [Put her on the line, ‘Streaker!]  _ Bluestreak says, his gray and red alt-mode shooting pasts him. 

Picking up speed and already regretting his decision, he put Daphne on the line. 

“ _ Sunny!”  _ she greets loudly. “ _ How are youuuu? _ ” He can’t help his amusement at her already slurred words. In any other human, he’d find her behavior disgusting, but this was his charge. She studied hard and partied even harder… and complained even harder the next morning when she feels like slag. “ _ Is Sides there too? _ ”

“ _ Right here, Blue,”  _ Sides chuckles. “ _ You’re on internal comms.” _

_ “Oh cool! Hey everyone, it’s Daphne!”  _ In the background, they can hear loud music and giggling. Sunstreaker picks up the familiar voices of her friends. 

“You alright,  _ ah lan _ ?” he asks. 

“ _ Ohhhh yes, _ ” she slurs with a giggle. “ _ I’m just checking in. I’m having a  _ lot  _ of fun.” _

Sunstreaker chuckles, both at her voice, and the fact he passed Bluestreak. He can see Jazz and Sides in the distance, and he’s determined to beat both of them. “Good. You staying safe?”

_ “Of course _ ,” she scoffs. “ _ I’m smart, Sunny, I just graduated today _ .” There’s a pause on the line and her breath hitches. “ _ Oh my god, there’s this reallllllly pretty girl. I’m gonna go talk to her. _ ”

“ _ That’s my girl!”  _ Sides coos and his brother is still trailing Jazz. 

“ _ Okay, I’m gonna go, bye guys, looooove you Sunny, love you Sides! _ ” Her call ends with a click and he can feel the affection coming off of Sides, and himself as well.

With a vent, he returns his concentration to racing and beating his comrades in a race.

~~~

The girl is beautiful. She’s tall, taller than any girl she’s ever met, with long, golden blonde hair braided down her back. Her pale skin glows under the blacklights, glitter shimmering on her collarbones. She’s looking at her with piercing green eyes from across the bar, wearing dark gray trousers and a white blouse unbuttoned to her navel. 

Bryce follows her gaze, her amber eyes bright. “Go get her, Daph,” she slurs and she’s inclined to just do that. 

She slams down the shot in front of her, the vodka burning all the way down. She’s not sure if they’re on their fourth or fifth bar, if that was her fifth or eighth shot of the night. But she’s burning, ruffling her hair and strutting across the bar. 

The blonde is already smiling at her, something predatory on her face, but Daphne is too drunk to care. “My name’s Clare,” she says into Daphne’s ears, her breath ruffling her hair. 

“Daphne,” she breaths, wanting nothing more to run her tongue over Clare’s sparkly collarbones. “You’re very pretty.”

“I know,” Clare laughs, handing her a drink that Daphne takes without hesitation. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun together.”

A slow smile crawls its way across Daphne’s numb face. She drinks the alcohol quickly, her nose wrinkling as she drinks it. It sticks to her tongue and feels powdery in her mouth. “Tastes weird,” she says, smacking her lips. 

Clare tilts her head, and even drunk, Daphne can see the predatory look on the blonde’s face but plays it off as desire. “You wanna get out of here?” she asks.

She says yes with hesitation, giving Bryce a triumphant fist bump across the bar. She follows Clare out of the bar, the other girl’s hand cold against her. She feels drunker every second, her eyes heavy, her blood moving like syrup in her veins, her magic sluggish. 

Clare pulls her into an alley, pushing her against the brink wall, pressing her red lips against Daphne’s pink ones. It’s not gentle or kind or loving, it feels like Clare hates her. If it wasn’t for the blonde against her, Daphne would be sliding onto the ground, her legs feel like they’re limp noodles. 

Something about this feels familiar. 

Wait. 

Her mind comprehends it the moment before she feels the needle piercing her neck. 

X.

Oh god. 

~~~

They won’t find out it’s gone until the morning, she’s made sure of that. Clare’s lip curls as she looks down at the mutant sprawled below her, a metal collar clasped around her neck. She doesn't feel bad about what they're doing. She's a Purifier. They cleanse the Earth of the biblical abomination that is mutants and bring about the returned supremacy of _home sapiens._ But, she can't believe she kissed it. She had spent half an hour puking into a trash can and gargling mouthwash. 

The mutant’s phone lit up with another text from someone named Sunny. Whoever it was, they were persistent. But, Clare’s lips curled into a smile as she read the text: “ _ Okay, stay safe. And Sides says have fun. Ew. Gross. _ ”

By the time any of its friends knew anything was wrong, they'd already be in hiding. There was no chance anyone would be able to find them.

A real smile spread across Clare’s lips as she threw the phone out of the van’s windows. She had promised it they were gonna have fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bryce stumbles out of bed the next afternoon, a pounding headache behind her eyes. God, she shouldn't have drunk that much. Chantel and Alex were already up, the former cooking breakfast (lunch?), the latter huddled over a garbage can on the couch. She might have to join him if she didn't get any coffee soon. 
> 
> "Anyone see Daphne yet?" she yawns. Despite how much she drank, she didn't blackout. She never blacked out. So, she remembered in vivid detail the pretty blonde Daphne went home and the triumphant smile on her friend's face. 
> 
> Chantel frowns. "Uh, no, not yet."
> 
> A pit starts to form in her stomach as Bryce forces her way into Daphne's room. The bed is unmade and there's no sign of her friend. Daphne doesn't this. If she stays over at a conquest's house, she comes home in the morning with coffee. And if she changes her mind, she texts. 
> 
> Bryce checks her phone. It's three in the afternoon and there's no text from Daphne. 
> 
> She swallows. Remembers the envelope that showed up on their doorstep a week ago that she caught a glimpse of before Daphne threw it angrily in the trash. 
> 
> She walks back into the living room, the look on her face enough to make Chantel go pale. Bryce unlocks her phone and dials a number. 
> 
> "Hello?" comes the smooth voice of Silas. 
> 
> "Silas?" she swallows. 
> 
> "Red? What's wrong?" he asks, his tone of voice changing in a moment. 
> 
> She swallows again. "I think Daphne's been kidnapped."


	18. she's alone, alone, alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two Bots think and react.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a week?? Who is she? But, apologies for how short it is. Not much happens in the chapter, but it offers some insight into two of our main characters. Also, thoughts on the last chapter?? I'd love to hear what y'all thought?

He wonders if she knows her dagger is a triplet. Sideswipe is sitting in an abandoned warehouse acquired by NEST and the human government, holding Daphne’s tiny dagger in his fingers. 

His brother crafted the dagger, but Sideswipe helped him make it. It’s almost identical to their own, about the length of a forearm, silver with black near the bottom, engravings curling around the blade. Sunstreaker named his Shadowsinger, for the way his enemies would not see him until it was too late, carving into the blade the Cybetronian glyphs for victory and glory and silence and battle. Sideswipe named his own blade Truthteller, for the way his enemies would tell him anything he wanted once he was done with them, engraving the glyphs for bravery and truth and cleverness and victory.

They had named Daphne’s blade for her, just as their mentors had presented them with their first weapons, weapons they had unfortunately lost long ago. Sunstreaker had taken metal from their own blades to make the dagger. They had carefully considered the name and the glyphs they were to carve into. 

They had chosen the name Lightbringer. 

Despite the training they put Daphne through, they didn’t want her to be in the middle of two wars. They didn’t want her to worry about her own government and people turning against her. Neither did they want her to worry about being found by a Con and killed on sight. 

So, they named her dagger Lightbringer. 

(Sideswipe didn’t want to tell his brother that he thought of Daphne as his own Lightbringer. She colored his world with blues and purple and green and orange. He could tell she entered the room with his eyes closed, tell by the way his spark would pull in her direction, in the direction of the light that poured out of her.)

Sunstreaker carefully carved Lightbringer with the glyphs of courage and patience and intelligence in battle and compromise and diplomacy and safety and hope and peace. They had sent a picture of the dagger to the Autobots back in Jasper and they received resounding support in the name and glyphs. Ironhide had been the loudest voice of support, to their surprise. 

_ It’s our hope she will not grow up in war, like our Younglings,  _ he had said gravely over internal comms.  _ She will grow into adulthood in safety and she will not grow up in war.  _

Sideswipe wants to laugh at his own naivety. He wants to crush this dagger in his servo, full of hopes that will never be true. 

His charge, his Daphne, is gone. 

(His lightbringer is gone.)

It’s been four days since she had been kidnapped by the Purifiers. They heard the demands from her kidnappers soon after they learned she went missing. They demanded to speak to the President, that an executive order be passed that strips mutants of their citizenship, that any lawsuit litigating the constitutionality of the Mutant Registration Act is thrown out of court. 

Sideswipe had wanted to blow up their headquarters in retaliation, but Prowl and Prime had eventually talked him down. 

For the first three hours after Daphne had gone missing, he and Sunstreaker had driven up and down every road in the city, searching for her. Jazz, Bumblebee, and Bluestreak had searched the surrounding coastlines and cities, but they found absolutely fragging nothing. 

After the first three hours, when the ransom note came in, NEST and other humans became involved. He didn’t really understand why, but he just wanted to find Daphne. He didn’t care which squishies he had to work with. He had seen a few familiar faces, Lennox and that human from the White House Sunstreaker had nearly killed.

But there was still no sign of Daphne and the demands were not going to be met. 

At first, he had been angry. Raging. He had yelled and screamed over the phone at Bryce, only stopping when he heard her cries. He flew out of the apartment parking lot with Sunstreaker at his side (numb and quiet and brooding, if you wanted to know), but they found nothing. 

Absolutely fragging nothing. 

They were supposed to be able to find her. They were her Guardians. But- but he couldn’t  _ feel  _ her. It was like the bond was locked in an iron box, dumped into the middle of the ocean. They think the Purifiers drugged her, collared her like before when they couldn’t find her. He couldn’t feel anything and she was gone gone  _ gone.  _

Now, he was numb and Sunstreaker was raging. Sideswipe couldn’t really feel anything at all, besides despair and deep grief.

So, here he was, sitting uselessly in a warehouse, because even though the girl he was beginning to fall in love with ( _ Oh, right that, that’s not really important right now _ ) was missing, maybe dead (he couldn’t let himself think that). He was sitting doing  _ nothing.  _

He rubs absently at the armor that houses his sparkchamber, as if rubbing it would ease the deep ache. Prime told him over comms it’s the feeling of a bond being stretched too far. 

_ I know how it feels, to an extent, young Sideswipe. It is how my spark feels, knowing my Elita One is out there beyond Earth’s atmosphere,  _ the Prime had said almost gently.  _ Do not lose hope, Sideswipe. And do not let your brother fall into rage and ruin. Our,  _ your,  _ Daphne is out there, safe. I can feel it.  _

He had wanted to call Optimus out on his lie. That the Prime could never understand the feeling of a Guardian being separated from their charge when their charge is behind enemy lines, when it feels like your programming is yelling at you to  _ move move move  _ but your spark is mourning the loss of another. That the Prime could not know that Daphne is out there. 

But Sideswipe had thanked Optimus for the kind words, turned off his comms, and spent the next hour staring off into nothing. 

This was his,  _ their,  _ fault, and he knew it. He should have never let her go off to the bar alone. It was his job to worry about Daphne, not her job to worry if he’s getting enough time with his comrades. 

Primus, he can still remember how she looked. The curve of her laughing lips. Her slight wobble in her stride in her heels. The way the late afternoon sun hit her hair, highlighting the lighter, electric blue near the root, and the darker, cerulean blue through the rest of her hair. The way the necklace he gave her shined, sitting on her collarbones. Full of light and life, the promise of ending one chapter and starting another. 

Sideswipe sat like this until his brother came back, letting the grief and remorse and numbness sweep over him like a wave. 

~~~

Sunstreaker was beyond any emotion at the moment, besides the cold precision of bitter rage. He let it fuel him, sweeping out anything that remained. He could feel the echo of his brother’s mopping, but Sunstreaker could not be bothered with his brother’s theatrics when they had their charge to find. 

He hadn’t recharged in four days, but everything still seemed sharp. If he stood still for too long though, his vision turned blurry around the edges, but Energon turned the world sharp enough. Jazz had looked at him with worry, Bumblebee (before he had to leave) had tried to convince him to recharge, but Sunstreaker won’t recharge until they find his charge. 

Arcee stood silent beside him as they transformed in the warehouse. The squishes looked over at them with wonder, some of them still new to the whole alien robot thing, Sideswipe didn’t move at all, and Bluestreak flinched slightly, avoiding eye contact. 

He felt slightly guilty about the way he had treated the younger Bot, but Blue- Bluestreak had gotten in his way and Sunstreaker had snapped. Jazz had reprimanded him, but Sunstreaker hadn’t heard much of his superior’s speech, the words spinning around in his helm, fading into nothing until he was once again left alone in the presence of his own rage and the dizzying feeling of his brother’s grief and devastation. 

He feels his lips curl as his gaze lands on his silent, unmoving brother. It was a pathetic sight to see, his brother giving up when he should be doing something about it. 

Sunstreaker wasn’t cruel, well, cruel when it came to his brother. He was feeling the same pain as his brother. His Guardian protocols were constantly screaming at him, screaming that he was a failure, that his charge was gone and he should be doing anything and everything to have her back in his sight. That was part of the reason he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t turn off the constant warnings, couldn’t have a moment of silence in his own helm. 

And his spark  _ ached.  _ It felt like his whole chest was filled with ice, but hollow at the same time. He could feel his spark trying to reach out to Daphne, fill that emptiness where constant emotions and information flowed only four days prior. 

The aches came in waves, screaming at one hour, quieting down to a yell a few hours later. It happened when he was driving around and he swore he could almost feel her, feel her  _ sky blue confusion and gray disorientation and milk-white fear.  _

They, Jazz and himself, had searched the area for hours, alerting their human allies, but they had no luck. Daphne wasn’t there. 

Arcee follows his gaze as it lands on Sideswipe. “Be gentle on him, Streaker,” she murmurs. Bumblebee had to go back to Sam and Arcee had quickly arrived as his replacement. She told him the whole base wanted to come and look for her, but they had to remain inconspicuous. “He’s just grieving differently.”

“She’s not dead,” he snaps.  _ Yet,  _ his fear whispers, but he shoves it deep and down. He cannot afford to lose the concentration his rage is lending him. He cannot feel anything else until they rescue his charge and he sets his eyes on her. “Sides is just being a stupid little glitch.”

“Streaker-” Arcee protests, but he’s already making his way over to his brother. 

The closer he gets, the more he can feel and see and hear. His brother is sitting vacantly against a wall, his optics dim. Sides is thinking about her the way you think of a dead friend, the way she talked, the way she moved, what she was wearing the last time he saw her. Sunstreaker feels his rage grow hotter and he clenches his fists. 

“Get up,” he hisses, kicking him in the side. 

This gets his brother’s attention, his optics flickering. “Go away,” Sideswipe replies absently. Sunstreaker feels Sides’ grief as if it’s his own. 

“Get the slag up, Sides. Stop fragging wallowing in your own self-importance,” he says, his voice low. If this was anyone else, they would be trembling in their seat, but this isn’t anybody, this is Sideswipe. “I don’t have time for your egotistical dramatics.”

“I can’t,” Sideswipe whimpers. He can feel the agony Sideswipe’s spark is enduring, the numbing devastation to the cold, fiery rage his own is feeling. “I-it hurts too much, Sunny.” Sunstreaker glares down at him, his optics catching what his brother is holding. 

Primus, it’s Lightbringer. 

That stupid,  _ stupid  _ dagger Sunstreaker had made Daphne for a graduation present ( _ She never got to use it, and she never will,  _ his fear whispers). He can see the glyphs he carved into it, the stupid name ringing in his head. 

If,  _ when _ , they get her back, he’s going to rename that stupid blade Furyfall, erase any mention of peace or hope, carve into it the glyphs of rage and glory and revenge and justice and victory. 

Hmm.

Maybe he needs to rename his own blade that, leaving his charge to the light of day. It’s his fault that she was taken. The burden of revenge and war should not fall upon her young shoulders. The burden should rest on  _ their  _ shoulders, not hers. That was the whole point of naming the blade Lightbringer. It was their promise to her, that they wouldn’t let her world be consumed with war, like Cybetron was, that they would protect her and other mutants.

They need to keep that promise. 

“Get up, Sides,” he says more quietly. He places his servo on Sides’ shoulder, letting him feel the comfort of the twin bond, sending love, affection, comfort, and hope. “We have a promise to keep, remember?”

Sides looks back down at the blade. “I remember,” he murmurs. “But, Sunny, she’s gone, and it  _ hurts. _ ”

“I know, how do you think I’m feeling?” 

“You’re  _ not  _ feeling, Sunny, that’s the problem. Everyone’s scared for when you’re going to eventually snap because you’re only allowing yourself to feel anger,” Sideswipe replies. He hears Arcee mutter under her breath and steps away, herding anyone in hearing distance away.

Sunstreaker wants to yell at his twin, tell him the only reason he’s running on pure rage (and spark deep worry) is that his twin is sitting on his aft, moping. But he doesn’t say that, because he knows Sideswipe is partly right. They’re split spark twins, each feeling the extremes of every emotion. When Sideswipe snaps with flaming anger, Sunstreaker is cool, concise precision. When Sunstreaker becomes the rage of a dying star, Sideswipe is joking his way through enemy lines. 

“I know,” Sunstreaker admits. “But you can’t give up, Sides.”

“I know,” his twin echoes, rubbing at his optics. Sunstreaker reaches out to Sides through the bond, letting him latch onto that worried anger, to the lingering hope, to the perseverance, to the crazed commitment of being recharged deprived. Sideswipe’s frame shudders as the grief dulls, processing the emotions and thoughts Sunstreaker has shared. 

“Better?” Sunstreaker asks softly. The love he feels for his twin cannot be described in words. Sideswipe is his literal other half, the one being in the universe Sunstreaker could not live without. But, they let another person in, and they need to keep their promise.

(His spark aches with how much he misses Daphne. Misses her stupid laugh and witty comments. Missed her scowls when he said something stupid. It’s only been four days, but he misses her something awful.)

“Yeah,” Sideswipe replies, shuttering his optics a few times as he stands up. He sways slightly on his wheeled pedes. “Got any Energon lying around?”

Sunstreaker wordlessly hands him a cube. “You won’t go catatonic on me again?”

Sideswipe shoots him a look and Sunstreaker feels the mutual rage they’re feeling burn brighter. “You’ve made sure of that, brother of mine,” he mutters, pushing away the numbness that wishes to blanket anything else. They both cling to the twin bond between them, trying to ignore the missing link. “Where are we going to look?”

“Near Oakland,” he answers, watching his brother carefully drink the Energon. “Arcee and Jazz are going to San Francisco and the humans are going door to door.”

Sideswipe nods. “Any leads?”

“Not many. No security footage at the bar she was at and we haven’t found any humans matching the description Bryce gave us. We’re going back to the spot I thought I felt something through the bond at.”

“We’re going to find her,” Sideswipe whispers, but he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. 

“No matter what it takes,” Sunstreaker promises, moving toward the door. Sideswipe carefully subspaces the dagger. “Bluestreak!” he barks and the Bot in question looks at him, fear making his optics wide. “You’re with us.”

The sharpshooter frowns at Sideswipe, who still does not look incredibly stable on his two wheels, but he nods. Sunstreaker again feels a pang of remorse for yelling at Bluestreak, but he will never apologize for it. “Got it, Streaker.”

As they speed out of the warehouse, he lets the concern for his brother fade away, let the coldness of his rage flow over their twin bond, let it sharpen their senses.

They’re going to find their charge.

No matter what it takes.

And then he’s going to dismember her captors one by one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jed Bartlet is tired. He's staring at the phone on his desk, waiting for it to ring with the news that they found the young Daphne Winters. 
> 
> "Sir?" Leo asks and Jed lifts his head. His Chief of Staff is looking down at him with concern, a frown on his face. "Are you alright? Should I call the First Lady?"
> 
> He dismisses him with a wave. "I'm fine, Leo."
> 
> "You're clearly not fine, sir. You've been staring at your phone like your date is an hour late on prom night," he jokes. Jed sends him a look and the mirth on Leo's face disappears. "Ah. That's what you're worried about."
> 
> "Have we heard anything from Josh?" As soon as Jed had heard the news, and the ransom demands, he sent his Deputy back to California, to work with local authorities as a voice for the administration. 
> 
> "Nothing. He'll call if he has anything." Leo pauses, his eyes glancing at the folder that sits on Jed's desk, on the picture of the smiling face that peaks out of it. "It's not your fault, sir," he says gently. 
> 
> "It is my fault, Leo, if she's killed because I can't answer the ransom demands that are addressed to me. Not her family. Not her school. Not her community. Me."
> 
> "I know, sir," he replies quietly. "But you, and the Purifiers, know those demands are unanswerable. They just want to paint you in a bad light."
> 
> "No, they want to place the blame on my hands if they kill her. God, the press will certainly see it that way," Jed mutters. 
> 
> "I don't know. They might take it easy on CJ because Daphne's her 'cousin'." Another pause. "You shouldn't consider a scenario if she dies."
> 
> "Yeah," Jed sighs. "I can't help it, though. It might ruin our relationship with the Autobots. Hell, think of the domestic implications if a semi-high profile mutant activist is killed because the federal government couldn't stop the Purifiers." Leo looks at him sympathetically. "But, by God's grace, I believe she's alive, Leo."
> 
> "She's alive," Leo echoes and their words sound like prayers.


	19. amid the concrete and clay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl meets her captors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of torture and electric shock.

She’s having some strange dreams. 

_ She’s dreaming she’s back at Xavier’s, sitting in Jean’s “Telepathy for Basics.” She’s in one of those tiny desks where the table is attached to her chair. She moves to get up, but there’s suddenly chains wrapped around her wrists and ankles, chaining her to the desk. “Where do you think you’re going, Celestial?” Jean asks with a wide-mouthed, vacant smile. She raises an arm, showing a similar chain wrapped around her own wrist, chaining her to the door. “We’re all Xavier’s creatures, love. We can never escape him. We can never leave him.” _

“I thought she was supposed to be awake by now.”

_ She’s dreaming she’s back in the Danger Room, nimbly dodging a laser that comes out of nowhere. She’s panting, the black leather of her suit sticking to her skin. She’s been here for hours and she’s so tired that she almost is hit. “Logan, I’m done,” she calls, but only silence answers her. She starts hyperventilating as the lasers and bullets and metal warriors come at her faster. “Logan!” she screams, pounding at the thick metal door. But no one hears her and no one ever comes.  _

“I think I may have messed up the dosage.”

_ She’s dreaming she’s on the back of a dragon, the scaled beast flying through the skies above Seattle. It’s exhilarating, viewing the city from above. Her mount below her is warm and alive, stretching his long neck toward the sun. He hums as she scratches at his shoulder. But their mirth turns to terror as they spot military planes behind them. “Go!” she shouts. “If they catch you, they’re gonna kill you!” Her dragon is flying as fast as possible, his breaths coming in large gasps. But it’s no use and he’s hit and she’s plummeting toward the ground below.  _

“Unacceptable, Miss Warner.”

_ She’s dreaming she’s back in Mission City. The air is filled with the sounds of terrified screams and the battling metallic giants around her. She’s running as fast as she can, the Allspark clutched in her hands. She doesn’t know where Ironhide and Ratchet went, but she’s alone on the streets. Until suddenly she’s not, Megatron appearing in front of her. She skids to a stop with a gasp, sliding onto her back and trying to scoot away on her arms and back. “Oh, don’t scurry, pet,” he coos, plucking her up with metallic claws. He dangles her in front of his hard red optics, taking the Allspark from her numb grip. “I’ve got plans for you.” _

“Sorry, sir. She wasn’t compiling the last time we woke her up. I gave her more sedative to combat her disruptive behavior.”

_ She’s dreaming she’s on the beach with her Guardians. She’s sitting in the long shadows they cast, flinching against the searing metal of their armor. They’re both silent until they start speaking in tandem. “We don’t like you, Daphne. You’re only an assignment to us and will only be that.” She starts to tremble, looking up at them with wide, confused eyes. “The bond means nothing to us. You’re a mild inconvenience to us that will have no impact on our lives. You live to be a vessel. If we could, we’d leave you to be killed by Purifiers or Cons. We don’t love you, Daphne Winters. Never have, never will.” _

Maybe these are more nightmares than dreams. 

There’s a pinch and her eyes start to flutter open as she’s suddenly awake. 

Her body is stiff like she’s been sleeping for days. She remembers feeling this way after Mission City. It felt like her body had forgotten how to move and her muscles turned to stone after a few days of not moving them. 

She feels horrible. Her head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. She can’t quite remember where she is or what she was doing before she fell asleep. Her memory is blank and the world is spinning slightly around her, the stars in her vision dancing in a slow orbit around her. 

She turns her head, looking at the room where she was. Her vision was a little blurry, but her surroundings did not look familiar in the slightest. It was dark and damp, lit by a lamp in the corner. The walls were exposed brick with what looked like mildew and a hint of mold. It’s cold and she’s shivering in her thin hospital gown. 

Wait.

Rollback the tape. 

Daphne’s wearing a hospital gown, the material scratching her skin. Her eyes pan down. She’s chained to a sketchy looking metal bed by the wrists and if she slightly moves her ankles, she can feel the cool metal of manacles. There’s an IV drip above her, attached to her right arm.

She starts to shake.  _ This- this isn’t good,  _ she thinks to herself, straining against the handcuffs. She pauses at the pressure around her neck. She’s shaking harder, bringing one cuffed hand to her neck, feeling the rough metal of a collar. She can’t feel her powers. She can’t feel her Guardians. Her mind and body are drawing a blank as she strains against the mutant suppressing collar, a gap where there was once humming energy. 

Fucking Christ. 

Her vision sharpens and focuses on the man sitting at the foot of her bed in a metal chair. He’s dressed properly, in a three-piece suit, his left hand holding a cane with a golden lion engraved into the handle. He appears to be of Chinese or Taiwanese descent, his dark hair slicked back, a scar running through his brown eyes that are staring her down. 

“Miss Winters, I’m pleased to see you awake again,” he greets. “You may address me as Mr. Huang. Miss Warner was afraid she may have put you into a coma,” he adds, gesturing towards a woman behind him. 

And it’s that stupid fucking Aryan blonde bitch from the bar. Clare. Daphne remembers that night dimly, her memories falling through her fingertips like smoke. She’s smugly leaning against the disgusting brick wall, dressed as primly as Mister-Stick-In-My-Ass, probably dressed as nicely as Judas. 

(Maybe she hasn’t mentioned this, but against self-preservation and better judgment, whenever Daphne is in a high-stress situation, she reverts to sarcasm, cursing, and yes, bullying. It distracts her enemy, in this case, captor, from the anxiety coursing through her body that’s making her blood pressure rise, her heart beat faster, and her palms sweat.)

(Oh, Jesus, she can’t even feel their sparkbeats beneath her chest.)

“You stupid, fucking, little bitch-” she seethes, pulling at her chains. She stops with a gag as an electric shock courses through her body, her hands going up to that wretched collar around her throat. 

“Oh, Miss Winters,” Huang chides, holding up a remote in his gloved hands. “We speak to each other cordially here. You are not allowed to curse at Miss Warner.”

Daphne glares at him. “Ah, I see. So at Purifiers Inc., the number one domestic terrorist and hate group in the country, you treat each other politely as you kidnap and torture mutants. Got it.”

Huang beams at her, and from the look in his eyes, he’s obviously deranged. “I’m so glad you get it, Daphne. May I call you Daphne?”

“No.”

“Daphne, you mustn't treat our dear Clare too harshly. You see, she’s only trying to repay our Lord for engaging in the sin of homosexuality,” he informs her in a matter of fact tone. 

She looks at him blankly, her gaze flickering to Miss Aryan Wannabe. “You must be kidding me, right? You know, you can only pick one group to hate. It can only be mutants or the gays.”

Huang’s smile tightens. “We do as the Lord commands of us, Daphne. Even mutants like yourself can repent and regain favor with our Lord, and be reunited with Christ on Judgement Day.”

“Oh really?” she asks, trying to look as confident as possible despite being collared and chained. “And all I have to do is let you collar me like some fucking exotic animal?” The second shock is much harsher than before, leaving her gasping for air. Clare is grinning like a maniac in the background, and Daphne knows that’s the first person she’s gotta kill when she gets out of here. When. Not if. 

Huang gives her a pitying glance. “It really is that simple, Daphne. You know, I really feel for you. My grandparents escaped to Taiwan and my parents are immigrants. I understand what it’s like to live as an Asian-American. It hurts my heart, it really does, to see mutants like yourself be turned away by your elders. But it’s so simple, Daphne. You must turn away from Satan and give yourself over to the Lord.”

“And how should I do that?” she asks sarcastically. 

“The Lord says in Exodus 20:3, you shall have no other gods before me. And in Leviticus 24:19-21, the Lord says ‘And a man who injures his countryman – as he has done, so it shall be done to him, fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth,’” Huang pauses, the Bible verses rolling off of his tongue like love poured off of hers. The man reminded her of the crazy Evangelicals she’d meet when she went to church with her  _ nai nai,  _ the certain fanatical glint in their eyes as the spit Bible verses out as they issued death threats against ‘sinners.’ “And for you, for your crime of idolatry, for using powers that should only be left to the Lord himself, you must cut off your hand.”

Daphne looks at him and bursts out laughing. “Are-are you serious?” she gasps. “You want me to cut off my hand because I offended your God? Look, I’m flattered that you think I’m a god, quite flattered actually, but you are insane. 

Huang frowns. “I believe I’m being most generous. Aren’t I, Miss Warner?” he asks. 

“Certainly,” replies the little bitch with the blonde hair. “It’s more than she deserves.” Clare’s smile is razor-sharp and all Daphne wants is to slap it off of the girl’s face. 

“We could kill you, Daphne, you must realize that,” Huang says, studying her for a moment. “For what you are. For what you’ve  _ done.  _ But, we won’t,” he adds brightly, his mood switching just like that. “We want you to be saved.”

Daphne’s not stupid. She knows she’s a valuable hostage to have. In the public eye, she’s connected to some of the most powerful mutants in the world, including a US senator and an eccentric billionaire, and the President of the United States and his staff. Through the drug-induced haze, she starts to put the pieces together. The only reason they haven’t killed her yet or tortured her out of her mind is her whole as a bargaining chip. 

“Why am I really here, Mr. Huang?” she asks, cocking her head to the side. She sees Claire in the background reach for a gun and she smiles. Good. They’re still scared of her. She may not have her powers, might be strapped to a bed, might be drugged, but she’s been training for the past couple of months for a situation like this. And she still has her smarts. Look, she didn’t graduate with a 4.0 for nothing. “Obviously you’re not here to convince me to cut off my own hand. Nor did you kidnap me just to kill me. Too much effort for you Purifiers. You like to take us all at once. Lot less personal. So, I’ll ask you again. Why am I here?”

Huang smiles, the manic cheer gone from him, leaving behind the cold calculation she knew was there all along. “You are just as smart as they said you are, Daphne,” he remarks, his hands tightening on his cane. “There are a lot of reasons you’re here, with one reason being you thwarted our little party back in February.”

She returns the smile, trying to ignore the way her chest seems to vibrate with how hard her heart is beating.  _ Be careful,  _ she thinks.  _ Too much arrogance and you’ll get yourself killed. _ “I bet your Purifiers buddies weren’t too pleased about getting shown up by a little mutant who happens to a little bit of a homosexual, too. Did you have to do a lot of recruitment cause your soldiers were in jail?”

His fingers flick and she spasms as the electricity goes through her. She gasps, blinking her eyes quickly to get rid of the stars. “They weren’t too happy,” he agrees pleasantly. “Not at all. Our plan was perfect and you messed it all up.”

“I-I bet,” she breathes and his nostrils flare.  _ Lesson learned. Don’t get him too angry. Anger equals pain.  _ “So why am I here? You could have just killed me back in that alley but you wanted to make a statement.”

“Precisely,” he says. “You’re too valuable to be killed straight away.” He holds open a hand and gestures at Clare. She struts forward, grabbing a folder out of her jacket and placing it in his open palm. He opens it, his eyes settling on the first page. “You’re an Omega, went to school at Xavier’s with New York,” he states. “Must have been a hard transition from Seattle. What did your parents think? David and Christina?”

Her blood runs cold. “Don’t mention my family.”

“But they’re an important part of your story, aren’t they?” he retorts, his unsettling eyes meeting hers. “You tested as an Omega before you graduated high school, with powers over electromagnetism and telepathy. Had a bit of a run-in with my brethren in Seattle, didn’t you?” he tsked. “They weren’t too happy about that either. They’ll be happy to hear you’re in my custody.”

“They tried to hurt my friend.”

“Ah yes, who could forget Miss Hope Summers? Her mom’s  _ the  _ Jean Grey, did you know that? That one who almost destroyed a whole town and killed her husband? Be reassured, she’ll make her penance in Hell. Perhaps we’ll pay them a little visit at their hotel, hm?” he muses. 

“Stick to me, asshole. Don’t mess with my family, including Hope and Jean,” she snaps. 

He waves her finger at her, pressing down on the button that sends an electric shock through her collar. “Do behave, Miss Winters. I thought your attitude was improving,” he says, sounding actually disappointed. Asshole. “Now, where were we?” His eyes go back to the folder. “There we are. It says here you managed to go to Berkeley without any debt. Very impressive. Even more impressive is the note here that says a mysterious donor paid for your schooling, books, apartment, and for food. Very interesting.” They had been watching her for a long time. She swallows as Huang flips to the next page, looking like the comic book villain he truly is. 

“Do you know what I find even more interesting, Daphne?”

“What?”

His dark eyes find hers again. “The fact that you know the President and his Press Secretary claims you as her cousin. My team of Purifiers and have found no evidence that you are Miss Cregg’s cousin or that you have ever met before. I’m quite curious to learn why this is.”

She swallows again, her mouth suddenly dry. “I-I can’t tell you,” she replies. “Top secret, you know? I’ve got to protect national security. 

Huang’s smile holds no mirth. “I’m disappointed. I thought we were beyond the point of lies, Miss Winters. Rest assured, I’m sure Miss Warner will be able to pry the truth of you, later.” Daphne feels her shield of sarcasm and bravery start to melt at the promise of violence on Clare’s voice. “But, the question of how you got to the White House isn’t entirely relevant to your question of why you are here. What is relevant is the fact, by all accounts, the President seems to like you. Along with members of his senior staff. In fact, I’ve been told by operatives that at your graduation a few days ago, by the way, congratulations to you, three members of Bartlet’s senior staff were seen talking to you, and to no one else.”

“They’re my friends,” she answers honestly, and even she can hear the tremor in her voice. Clare looks like a shark that’s smelled blood in the water. 

“I’m sure they are,” he says, his smile mocking and cruel. “Which is why I’m sure they’re going to answer my ransom demands. They’re quite reasonable. Would you like to hear them?”

“Sure.”

“Delightful. Well, first, all Purifiers in prisons and jails are to be freed and any Purifier who commits a crime in the future is to receive immunity. The President must also pass an executive order that bans mutant immigration and turn any mutant refugee away, turns any crime committed by a mutant into a felony, and any ‘discrimination’ or ‘prejudice’ directed towards mutants are to be legal, under the freedom of the first amendment, along with various other provisions that seek to return mutants to the status they deserve.”

She’s pretty sure her mouth is hanging open in sheer shock. “So you basically want to strip mutants of citizenship and the benefits that come with it.”

Huang beams. “Exactly. I knew you would understand. But I wasn’t finished. Any litigation in the courts that seeks to challenge the Mutant Registration Act must be thrown out of court, and, speaking of courts, my associates and I, as your kidnappers, cannot be charged. If all of our demands are met, you are to be returned home safe and sound. They have ten days to comply.”

She looks at him blankly, her mind raising. Holy hell. He’s certifiably insane. “Are you being serious?”

“Entirely,” he frowns. “This is no joking matter.”

“You think the President of the United States is going to meet these demands because one girl’s life is in danger?” she asks. Daphne won’t bother telling him that all of his demands are out of the reach of the President and he couldn’t even fulfill them if he wanted to. “Look, I’m flattered you think I’m important enough to have laws changed, but I’m not.”

“I think you are,” he answers, and that’s the point where she knows he’s actually insane. 

“But I’m not,” she insists. “I’ve only met him, like, three times. He’s not going to help you, Huang. And neither will I”

“Will you not help us convince him in order to save your own life?” he asks curiously. 

“No,” she answers stubbornly. “I’d rather die than help anything that will further oppress mutants."

Huang sighs. “On your head then,” he agrees, suddenly flipping. She feels her stomach sink. God, what did she just do? “We must up the stakes, then.” He stands up smoothly, wiping off the dirt that’s not even there, the lion carved on his cane staring her right in the face. “Clare, I’m leaving her to you.” Clare looks delighted, cracking her knuckles

Daphne starts, pulling at her chains. “Wait, Huang, you can’t be serious. She’s crazy, she’s gonna kill me. You don’t want to kill me, right?”

He fixes her with a pitying look. “You’re still more valuable to me alive than dead at the moment. But, Clare won’t kill you,” he reassures, but she doesn’t feel reassured by the glint in his eyes. “She’ll just make you hurt so bad you wish you were dead. Nothing that leaves marks, dear,” he adds. 

“I’d be delighted to, sir,” Clare replies excitedly, slowly walking up to Daphne’s bed. Huang presses the remote to her collar into Clare’s gloved hands.

Huang notes the fear on her face. She’s never been tortured before. “Miss Warner is a skilled nurse. She knows what the human body can take.” And with that, he strides out of the room with a wave, and Daphne is left with the girl she is sure is going to kill her.

Clare smiles at the fear on her face. “Little Daphne Winters trembling like a newborn foal,” she coos, changing out Daphne’s IV bag with a new one. “You know, I saw what you did on February First. I saw the damage you caused. Now, look at you. Helpless.”

Daphne juts her chin out, trying to hide the fear that’s blooming in her heart. God, she wishes Sides and Sunny were here. They’d protect her, they’d make sure no one hurt her. But they’re not here. And if they’re not here by now, that means they’ll never be here. “I-I’m never helpless,” she swallows, feeling a tear escape her eye. 

“Oh, is she crying?” Clare mocks, a cruel smile on her face. “You’ll be sobbing at the end of this,” she promises, picking up a syringe. Daphne flinches as the prick of the syringe is inserted. “And you know the best thing is? I know how to make you hurt so bad you’ll wish you were dead. And then I know the right drugs to give you so you can’t remember what happened and I can go right back into hurting you.”

Oh God. Daphne swallows. She doesn’t think she’s going to get out of this. She’s handcuffed to a bed with drugs being pumped into her and her power trapped beneath this stupid collar. Her powers are unreachable and she can feel the almost painful feeling of it gathering under her skin. When she doesn’t use her powers for long, it starts to hurt and burn, her skin lighting up blue from the inside and out. Her hands clench into fists, the cool black metal of her ring pressing into her palm and-

“We’re going to have some fun, you and I.”

Her ring. Oh my God her ring. The ring Ratchet says is supposed to dampen any remaining Autobot energy clinging to her. Maybe if she gets it off-

Her body arches as the first electric shock goes through her. She can’t think. It hurts so much more than any of the shocks Huang had given her. She realizes the irony of this situation. If she had her powers, this kind of electricity wouldn’t hurt her at all. 

God, it hurts so much, but her mind clings to the idea that maybe there’s some hope after all. Chest heaving as she listens to the cackles of her torturer, she keeps her hands in fists, her eyes closed tightly. 

She slowly starts to maneuver the ring of her finger, slipping it off. 

The next electric shock comes as the ring hits the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's been no new news of Daphne for days. Hope's been canvassing the streets with her mom during the day, and then crying at their hotel at night. Not even Daphne's nai nai can comfort Hope with the promise of homemade dumplings. 
> 
> No one's sleeping. Hope's been waking up with nightmares from her brief capture by Purifiers back in Seattle. Her mom tries to reassure her that everything will be alright, but Hope can see through her mom's lies. Jean's looking hollow, with deep circles under her eyes and a tightness around her mouth. Daphne's parents aren't any better.
> 
> David is numb, only stirring every night at 5 o'clock when the FBI investigator comes to update them. Christina is a frenzy, running everywhere, giving interviews every free minute until she collapses. 
> 
> At least Hope was able to meet Daphne's friends. Chantel and Alan were nice. Bryce reminded Hope of herself. No one had seen Silas or Sawyer since Daphne had gone missing, but Bryce had said she got a couple of texts. 
> 
> If they aren't able to Daphne... Hope's not sure what will happen.


	20. you're going home tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl is out of choices.

Sides doesn’t know how long it takes them to notice it. How long she was there before they realized it. How long she suffered, hoping that someone would come and notice. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever know, but it will haunt him for the rest of his days. The fact she had particularly saved herself and no one had noticed. 

It’s the seventh night and they’re running out of time. They only have three more nights until… well, no one really knows what’s going to happen once their, Daphne’s, time runs out, but it will be bad. The human’s puny President still hasn’t acted, and him and Sunny contemplating forcing him to do something. They were so close to actually driving to DC and, well,  _ persuading  _ Bartlet into doing something when Jazz found out and threatened to defenestrate them (Lennox cheerfully informed Sides that defenestrate meant ‘to throw someone out a window’). 

So, now they are stuck with Lennox and Jazz and babysitters for three days, and until Daphne was found. Prowl had chewed them out over comms, even threatening to pull them back to base if they continued acting out until Sides had casually informed him they would defect to the Cons before they gave up. That had shut Prowl up fast. 

Sunny has been up for seven days, Sides for three. Sides keeps himself busy, hovering over the shoulders of human analysts, hacking into their primitive computer system to see what they were hiding from him, going out on searches whenever he could. He does whatever he can to distract himself from the gaping hole that’s left in his spark and the fear his charge would never be found. He sticks close to the comfort of his brother’s spark, of the simmering rage, concentration, and the sliver of hope that hid itself deep in the bond. 

(They are both drowning slowly and Sunstreaker refuses to talk about it. Talk about what if. What if’s are all Sideswipe can think about. What if they never found her? What if they only found her body? What if they found her and she was beyond broken? What if they found her and she decided to walk away from everything and never see them ever again?)

It’s the seventh night and it’s past midnight. They had spent the last three hours canvassing all of Berkeley and Oakley. Lennox sits in Sides’ passenger seat, the lamp posts' lights casting shadows over the soldier’s face. Lennox had told him about the FBI’s (Sides had never fragging clue what this was) search. Like them, the other humans weren’t finding much, and they had exhausted any contacts they had within the Purifiers. No one seemed to know where she was, only that she was with some higher-ups, the kind of people who had coordinated the February First attack. That had made his spark burn, his holoform’s fingers tightening on the steering wheel. 

Lennox told him most of the FBI investigating party were unaware of NEST’s involvement with the search. Only those in charge really knew anything, but only knew what Josh Lyman, that infuriating squishy from the White House, told them. 

“Will they allow us to be there when they rescue her?” Sideswipe asks, barely keeping the contempt of his voice. They should be the ones leading the search, not the hapless human government. They should be the ones making the rules. 

Lennox pauses. “Yeah,” he answers, clearing his throat as they drive onto the bridge. They’re heading to San Francisco, where Sunstreaker thought he felt Daphne, his brother and Jazz a silent presence behind them. “Yeah, I let Josh know at the beginning of all this that you and Streaker would be joining the rescue team. They weren’t too pleased to hear that two unknowns would be joining them, but when they heard it was an order from the President, they understood.”

“Good,” he says, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “It’s the least Bartlet could do for refusing to meet the ransom demands. If…” he swallows, ignoring the throbbing pain in his chest. “If something happens, it's on his hands.”

“Are you okay, Sides?” Lennox asks. Sides glances over at him, noting the concern and worry etched onto his features. “We’re all worried about Daph, I get it, and we all want her safe, but,” he hesitates. “But, man, you went from catatonic to, to this. Busy every second of the day. And Streaker is worse. I’ve never seen him more, more, angry. Like, are you guys okay?” Sides hears the unspoken question in his voice.  _ Will you be okay if we don’t find her? _

Sides chuckles bitterly. “Your puny human mind can never understand the pain my brother and I are in. Every moment we are apart from Daphne, we are in agony. Our sparks are calling out to something that cannot return our call. Our programming is screaming at us to find our charge, but we cannot find her. We have failed in the task that was given to us by our Prime.”

“Oh,” Lennox says quietly, and they fall silent. Sides glances over at the Captain, no, Commander now, he reminds himself, and sees him contemplating everything Sides just told him. 

It was the truth. Every word. But no words can ever truly grasp the pain they’re in, the agony of a broken bond, the deep, unending failure they felt. On instinct, Sideswipe reaches out to his brother, for the comfort of the bond they still have. Sunstreaker sends back a pulse of reassurance, of hope. 

_ ::To think we are brought to our knees by a tiny human,::  _ Sides thinks darkly. 

_ ::Not the time, Sides,::  _ Sunstreaker growls, sending a pulse of annoyance, with undercurrents of affection.  _ ::Pay attention.::  _

Sides brings his mind back to the present as Sunny passes him as they get off of the bridge, his golden paint winking in the dim light. He follows his brother through the dark streets of San Francisco, both he and his passenger on high alert. 

_ [Almost there, Sunstreaker?]  _ Jazz asks over comms, the saboteur’s headlights bouncing off of Sides’ rearview mirror. 

_ [Another mile or so,]  _ Sunny answers. 

“We’ll be there soon,” Sides tells his passenger. 

“Got it,” Lennox answers, sitting up in his seat. He hesitates. “Look, Sides, I didn’t mean to upset-”

“It’s nothing,” he interrupts. “Just keep an eye out for anything that looks suspicious,” he orders. 

“Will do,” Lennox says, rolling down the window and poking his head out. 

Sunny is leading them down one-way streets towards the waterfront. Sides had been this way before a few nights ago, with Bluestreak tagging along. Sunny insisted on checking again, and they chose the night FBI personnel were in the area, in case they found anything.  _ [It was near a bunch of abandoned buildings,]  _ he says.  _ [Couldn’t tell where it was going from. It was just a pulse of something.] _

_ [Understood,]  _ Jazz replies. At once, they turn off their headlights and Lennox slips on a pair of night-vision goggles. 

They creep quietly down the street and Sides is on high alert, his spark thrumming. They continue for a few minutes and he’s ready to give up when suddenly-

_ [Primus, can you feel that?]  _ Jazz asks, stopping abruptly. 

Neither of them reply, which is an answer in itself. They feel it. The tiny but insistent pulse of Allspark energy coming from a house by the water, no light or life coming from it. He latches onto it, trying to reassure himself it’s real, and it is real. The pulse of energy is the hum of the Allspark, yes, but it’s also the hum of one Daphne Winters. 

It’s faint, so faint that you could miss it if you weren’t paying attention. It’s like trying to distinguish a singular voice from a room full of voices, but if you close your eyes and pay attention, you can barely make it out.

But deep in his spark, he knows it’s Daphne, and Sunny knows it is to. 

His programming is screaming at him to run and go rescue his charge, the impulse doubled by Sunny projecting through the bond. And he’s already going through the motions of kicking Lennox out of him so he can transform and seek revenge when he hears the commanding voice of Optimus Prime over comms. 

_ [Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, you are to stand down,  _ immediately,] Prime commands. 

_ [She’s right there, she’s right there,]  _ they keen, trying to impress upon their commander what they’re feeling, the knowledge she’s right. Sunny’s rage is gone, Sides’ agony is gone, all that’s left is hope and a drive to find her. 

_ [You must wait until the human reinforcements arrive in ten minutes. If you act now, not only will you be breaking our treaty, but you will face punishment. I understand what I am asking of you, but that’s an order, from your commander.] _

~~~

She doesn’t know what day it is. What month or year it is. The world is spinning around her. When she opens her eyes, she can’t focus on anything, her vision of blur of darkness. Her neck is burning and it hurts more than anything she’s ever felt before. 

Her thoughts feel like trying to grab running water. She grasps one and it fades into nothingness. All she feels is pain, the burning under the metal collar she wears, the ache in her stiff muscles, nausea flipping her stomach. 

Her magic is hurting her. When her eyes focus, all she sees is the glowing blue of her skin. Bruises follow her veins, blooming on her arm underneath the burns… She sniffs, trying not to cry. She’s trying to grasp at her memories, but she can’t, can’t remember where she got the lightning-shaped burns on her arms from. 

She can feel the choking sensation of her magic roiling beneath her skin. Trapped. Just like her. It hurts to breathe, to think, to swallow. It’s not supposed to be like this. She’s supposed to be able to use her powers, to let the blue out of her before it starts to hurt her. God, it hurts so much that she wishes she didn’t have powers. Wishes she listened to… To that-that man, with the crazy eyes who gave her over to Cindy, no, she thinks her name is Claudine, or something, she can’t remember. Wish she listened to his promise of freeing her from her power. 

She’s screamed herself hoarse and her skin is raw under the cuffs. She opens her eyes, the world still blurry around the edges, and sees no one. Thank God. That woman can’t hurt her anymore. 

_ But she’ll be back,  _ her thoughts whisper.  _ At least I can’t remember,  _ she thinks back. 

She can’t really. Her memories of the past four, no, fourteen, maybe twenty, days are hazing and slipping through her fingers like smoke. She can recall bits and pieces. The look in the man’s eyes when he told her she could be free of her powers, the feeling of electricity dancing across her skin, the smile on that woman’s face when… Daphne, that’s right, opens her eyes and she can inflict her more pain. 

The world slips, and her mind sharpens slightly. 

Her name is Daphne, Daphne Winters. She’s twenty. She has friends and family who love her. She has an important job and important friends. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. She’s a mutant and that’s why she’s here. And-

And. 

And. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to remember. And. What’s so important? And. She looks down at her hand, and her fingers that are cramping. There’s a pale strip of skin on her ring finger. 

Oh!

Daphne sits up, looking down at the floor, spying the black ring. She heaves a sigh of relief, flopping back down onto her bed. Even just sitting up makes her feel exhausted, her lungs gasping, sweat rolling down off of her forehead, her heart ricocheting in her chest. 

Her thoughts aren’t making much sense. They’re fragmented, swimming around her head. She feels like Percy Jackson when he tries to read English, with the words floating around him. Instead, it’s her own thoughts. They’re not linear.

She catches her breath, her hands trembling. She hates being helpless. Hates sitting in this stupid bed, waiting for Claudine, Crystal, no, Claire, to come back and torture her more until she can’t remember. She’s stuck here until someone rescues her. The thought sours her stomach and she glares at the moldy ceiling. 

She can’t do anything. She’s weak, handcuffed so tightly to a hospital bed that she can spy purple bruises on her wrists. She can’t see her ankles, but from the consistent throbbing pain, she can guess it’s much of the same. She can’t use her powers, and even if, somehow, her collar slipped off or was turned off, her magic would come out of her in an uncontrolled rush, leaving her just as weak. 

She wonders if her  _ nai nai  _ still has her diploma. 

Then there were the drugs. Daphne scowls. Even as she sits there, she can feel the world slightly slipping, vertigo that rushes through her suddenly, the confusion sitting on the sidelines. 

God, it hurts so much. Her magic is pounding against her thin veins, trying to escape. She can’t imagine what it’s like for her mutant brothers and sisters who are stuck in prison, forced to wear these things for years. 

Daphne swallows (God, she wishes she had a glass of water). She’s not going to save herself in this one. It pains her to admit that. She tilts her head to the side, her gaze landing on her black ring. 

She hopes Persephone is okay. Her cat’s probably worried about her. Her parents too. 

It’s up to her Guardians to save her, somehow. She’s done all she can, waiting for that woman to come back and start the cycle all of again. 

She can hear rustling in the distance, the sound of footsteps. She wonders where her torturers are.

The world slips, her eyes unfocusing as exhaustion pulls a black veil over her vision. She falls back against her bed with a sigh, the sedative warming her veins, chasing away the pounding pressure of her magic. She welcomes it. It hurts to think so much. She lets the drugs pull her under, a promise of rest, and an alleviation of pain. 

Maybe she’ll sleep through the next round of torture. 

~~~~

Sunstreaker stands absolutely still. He is not like his brother. Sides paces, fists clenched at his side, wearing an expression of murder. Sideswipe, the impatient one, the one who switches emotion at the drop of the hat. 

But Sunstreaker is still, his face blank as he listens to the humans try and tell him he has to follow their rules. He can tell they don’t like him, by the way they glare at their superiors. They don’t know why he’s here. His lips spread into a cruel smile as he smells their fear. 

He leans in and the human flinches back. “I will not,” he answers. “Try and stop me."

The human swallows. “Sir,” it says, the smell of fear pouring off of it. Sunstreaker is feeling nothing at all, trying to balance his void with the overwhelming color his brother is feeling. “I’m informing you as a courtesy-”

“You will not ‘inform’ me of anything,” he mocks. “I will do as I please.”

“Stand down, Laurens,” the supervisor, Eric Turner, says a scowl on the man’s face. The scowl grows as he steps away from his underlings, gesturing for Sunstreaker to follow. Sideswipe stays exactly where he is, his eyes locked on the house their charge is in. “Look, I have some inkling of, well,  _ what  _ you are, but you have to do as I say, understood?”

Sunstreaker cocks his head. The man obviously does not know who he’s talking to. “You have no idea what that girl means to me and my brother. What she means to  _ your  _ president. What she means to powerful allies of your nation. You  _ will  _ be allowing my brother and I to take point in this situation, or you will be left behind like ineffectual tools you are.”

Turner bristles. “Excuse me? Do you know who-” He raises to his full height, allowing his sunglasses to slip down his nose. The man freezes as he stares into the alien blue eyes of Sunstreaker’s holoform. The man swallows, taking an unconscious step backward. “I-I can arrange you entering the building first. Follow me.”

“I’m glad we came to an agreement,” Sunstreaker smiles, but there is nothing kind in his smile. He follows Turner over to one of the vans, gesturing for Sideswipe to follow. The man explains the different weapons, insisting they take a bulletproof vest. 

“Don’t you know we’re mutants?” Sideswipe asks. “We don’t need this.”

Turner scowls. “You either wear a vest and take a weapon, or you stay behind,” he states, marching back to his men. 

They exchange a glance, but do as the man instructed. Sunstreaker chooses a gun in silence, tucking it into the pocket of his pants. Sideswipe is trembling slightly.

“Get yourself under control,” Sunstreaker mutters, strapping on a vest. 

His brother sends him a look. “We can’t all be emotionless as you, Sunny,” he scowls. “Is it really my fault that I’m worried about our charge?”

He takes the ‘emotionless’ comment as a compliment. It’s what makes him a better warrior than his brother. “Yes, it is your fault. Too much worry means you’re not paying attention to your surroundings. Get it together,” he orders. 

They exchange no words after that. Sunstreaker sends him bursts of courage and concentration as they prepare to enter the house. On the count to three, they kick the door in, brandishing their weapons. 

The human soldiers murmur behind them, holding up flashlights. There wasn’t much to see. The floor was dirty, the walls covered in dirt, mold, the scent of rotten seawater in the air. They walked through every room on the floor, their footsteps in sync, waiting to see their charge, or any sign of her. The pulse of Allspark energy whispered to them, leading them down the stairs. 

The second floor was just a large room. He was starting to get frustrated. “Where the hell is she supposed to be, Sawyer? I thought you said she was here,” Turner asks impatiently.

“She is here,” Sunstreaker snaps. They can still feel the pull of the Allspark, pulling them down, but there’s nowhere else to go.

“Back up onto the stairs,” Sideswipe says suddenly. He looks over at his brother, who is hunched over the hardwood floor, running his fingers over scratches in the wood. Sideswipe looks up at him. “You know what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah,” he responds ruffly. He squats down next to his brother. They run their fingers over the wood, looking for a hatch of some kind. His fingers catch on a slight separation in the wood and they exchange a glance. 

He presses down on the wood, and the paneling opens up, a square hole in the wood, big enough for one person at a time. Turner swears as they jump down into the hole. There’s a latter, but they don’t use it. 

The hidden floor is dim, smelling of mold and decay, the walls are exposed brick. They’re in a thin hallway that’s only a few feet long, curving around a corner. 

“Daphne?” he calls, holding up a gun as they quickly walk down the hallway. There are several more turns in the tiny hallway and he can see dim light ahead. “Daphne?” he calls again, walking faster. He can feel the press of his brother’s anxiety and it suddenly matches his own. 

They burst into a large room to see-

Oh, Primus, help him. 

She’s lying limp in a hospital bed, no movement besides the rise and fall of her chest. Sunstreaker is frozen mid-stride as Sideswipe runs to her. “D-Daphne, are you okay?” his brother checks her pulse, running a hand through her hair. 

Turner walks up behind him. “Oh, sweet Jesus. Someone call a medic! We need them, asap. The rest of you, sweep the rest of the house. Look for any documents.”

He walks slowly up to his charge, his brother continuing his hushed murmurs. All of the emotions Sunstreaker kept suppressed come rushing back, exhaustion crawling its way up his body. 

She’s pale, her skin robbed off its warmth. Her head is lolled to the side, her hair slicked back with sweat, her eyes fluttering under bruised eyelids. His eyes land on her arms and his breath hitches. Her skin is glowing a sickly blue, a bruise traveling up her arm and he can see the purple lines crawling up her neck, disappearing under the thick metal collar. 

“Sunny, help me with her cuffs,” Sideswipe snaps and Sunny’s eyes go to his brother. Sides is hunched over her, carefully removing the IV in her arm. 

“I-, sure,” he gets out, taking her limp, cold hand in his. Her skin both feels like it’s burning and freezing at the same time. The bruise, which he suspects is her magic, is warm to touch, but the rest of her skin is ice cold. Her wrist feels so tiny in his hands as he carefully pries the cuff off of her wrist. He makes note of the bruising under the cuff, matching the bruising on her ankle. 

She starts to stir and Sides’ head shoots up. “Daphne?” he murmurs softly, slowly making his way back to the head of the bed. She lets out a low moan of pain, her eyes fluttering open, her gaze going to the ceiling. “Daphne?” he says again, gently taking one of her hands in his own. “I-it’s Sides. Sunny is here too. You’re safe.”

“We’ve got you,” Sunny, placing a hand on her knee. 

Her breath hitches and she says something so softly they can’t hear it. Sides brings his ear to her mouth. She still hasn’t moved from looking up at the ceiling, tears starting to fall. “What was that, love? We can’t hear you.”

“Take it off. Take it  _ off,”  _ she repeats more aggressively, her free hand clutching the thin sheets. “Take it off, take it off, it hurts so much.”

“Okay, okay,” Sides says quickly, and they exchange a glance. Daphne squeezes her eyes shut as she continues to cry. “We’ll get it off.”

Sides continue to hold her hand as Sunny gets a good grip on the collar. He presses the rage back and focuses on the present, on making sure she’s okay. He can hear the humans in the distance. Their medics would take far too long to get the collar off. 

He slowly starts to pry it open, and once he’s reassured it won’t hurt Daphne, he rips it off in a fluid motion. 

He’s unprepared for the wave of emotions through the bond. Sides cries out and Sunstreaker lets out a groan. They can feel everything again, her fear, her exhaustion, her pain, her worry, her embarrassment, her  _ pain,  _ her anger. His spark sings in joy and his Guardian programming falls silent as he is _finally_ reunited with their charge. The bond is humming with joy and relief, and he feels a sense of rightness. 

They can also feel her pent up magic release out of her in a wave. 

He’s pushed back from the force, hears the surprised cries off humans behind him as they’re surely knocked off their feet. The house sways slightly, the dim light in the room bursting. His hair is standing up on its end and he can feel the magic go through him. It’s like nothing he ever felt before. He can feel all of the pain and fear and rage that went along with it, and the relief and joy of having the magic released. 

Sides' eyes are wide when Sunstreaker turns back to his brother. Daphne’s out again, but through the bond, they can tell her pain is lessened. Her skin is no longer transparent or glowing and the bruising has receded slightly. 

They exchange another glance and simultaneously press a kiss to her forehead. She’s home now. They send her a burst of affection and safety and… and love. 

And her breathing deepens and a small smile spreads across her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No end-notes story this week folks! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've got a lot of interesting ideas for this story moving forward! And just as a disclaimer, I'm starting school in about three weeks, so I won't have as much time to write. I'm going to hope for bi-monthly updates for the future, starting in early September.


	21. am i still ill?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl starts to recover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you read the endnotes this week :)

Daphne wakes up slowly. There’s a cool draft on her cheek but her body feels warm and relaxed. There’s no pain, no memory of pain, no stiffness in her muscles. She opens her eyes. She’s facing a large window and the moon is casting soft light into the room, the stars winking at her in the distance. 

She thinks she’s in a hospital. She can hear the soft beeping of a heart monitor and can hear her heartbeat rise as she realizes there’s an IV in her arm. But her panic slows as she sees it’s in the left arm, her right elbow bandaged. That was kind of them. 

The bruises on her arms look better. They’re still there, but they’re a sickly greenish-yellow, instead of the purple-blue of a new bruise. Her powers don’t hurt anymore. She can feel her magic in the background, feel the hum as she lets it pool in her hand.

She knows the collar must be off if she’s able to use her powers, but she still raises as a shaky hand to her neck, letting her fingers trace the slightly raised skin of her neck, and the soft skin of her collarbones and shoulders. Daphne wants to cry. She feels the slight stinging in her eyes as she continues to drag her fingers over her neck, let her magic raise around her body, let it settle in her fingertips and turn her nails blue, let it curl in her hair and make it look like she just stuck her fingers in an outlet, let it glide over her skin and turn solid over her forearms. 

She’ll never take her powers for granted again. She tilts her arms, letting the moonlight bounce off of her armor. She’s never realized how beautiful her armor is and the intricacy of it. She watches the living metal flex as she curls her fingers into a fist. Daphne’s eyes follow the swirling patterns in her armor. It reminds her of her Guardian’s metal skin…

Oh!

Her Guardians!

She turns away from the window and is greeted by Sideswipe’s holoform sitting next to her. His eyes are blank, his head tilted down. Her gaze lifts up and she sees Sunstreaker doing much of the same, leaning against the wall next to the door. It was a little uncanny to see their faces so blank and without emotion.  _ They must be sleeping,  _ she thinks to herself.

She feels a wave of gratitude go through her as she lets herself admire them. Her memory of her rescue is incomplete, seconds where her memory fades to black, but she remembers how they looked. She remembers the terror on her face when she woke up. She remembers Sides’ hand in hers and the feeling of Sunny’s fingers on her neck as he pried the collar off of her. 

She can feel the bond again, feel their sparkbeats under her chest. Her hand falls away from her neck and she presses it against her chest, feel her own heart, and feel the echoes of their rhythmic sparks. 

God, she’s so happy she can feel them again. It was so incredibly painful and gut-wrenching and soul-tearing to suddenly feel alone again after sharing headspace and emotions. When she closes her eyes, she concentrates and she can almost feel them in her head. She can see the intangible strings that loop around her forefingers, spilling onto the ground, and disappearing under the door. Daphne carefully plucks at those invisible strings that tie them together, the sleepy, silver awareness of Sideswipe, and the surprised, golden relief of Sunstreaker.

“Daph?” She opens her eyes to see Sideswipe staring at her, feel his clay protectiveness and iron worry. He’s still pretty when he’s tired, his long, silver hair tucked behind one ear, the blue of his eyes emphasized by the purple under them. “Y-you’re awake.”

“How do you feel?” Sunstreaker quickly walks over, sitting in the chair on the other side of her bed. He looks better growing his hair out, his golden-brown hair softly curling, offsetting the intensity of his eyes. She can feel his violet anxiety, smokey relief, and mauve exhaustion, his emotions curling around him like fog. 

Daphne licks her lips. “Thirsty,” she answers, her voice cracking. Sides hands her a glass of water, his eyes on her as she greedily drinks it. Her throat feels less dry and her hands shake as she hands it back to him. He grabs her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. 

There’s a moment of silence before Sunny shifts in his seat and starts to run his hands through her hair. The gesture surprises her but her eyes start to close and she hums, pressing her head into his hand. “We’re so glad you’re okay, Daphne,” Sunny says and she can feel his mint sincerity and carnation affection. It’s like the whole world is colored in their emotions, in the bond, and she lets the colors wash over her comfortingly. 

“I had almost given up when you guys came,” she admits. Someone inhales sharply and Sides’ grip on her hand tightens. “T-they pumped me full of a lot of drugs. They, uh, shocked me too.” The words start to spill out of her and the comforting calm of the bond is suddenly awash in her violet anxiety, milk-white fear, purple panic, and sickly green shame. “It hurt  _ so  _ much. Not just the shocks or the drugs, but the feeling of my magic against my veins. My skin felt paper-thin and I felt like I was balloon ready to burst.” Her head is full of gray disorientation as she tries to understand the holes in her memories. “Everything is so, so  _ blurry.  _ It’s like trying to see in the dark right after looking at a bright light. I don’t know how long I was gone. It could have been, like, three days, or, maybe a week or a month, I just, I just don’t know.” Panic rises in her throat, cutting off her air. She didn’t realize how much this, this being kidnapped and tortured, would affect her. She thought she was stronger than that, stronger than the anxiety that is coiled in her stomach, ready to strike. She thought once she was safe, with her Guardians, her family, her friends, she’d be okay. 

“Hey, hey, Daphne, breathe,” Sides commands, and her eyes fly open. His gaze is serious as she takes a deep breath. “Match my breath, okay?” She nods, watching as he inhales, exhales, inhales, exhales. Sunny’s hand is warm under her head and he sends her baby blue calm. 

This continues for the next five minutes, her eyes on Sides as she matches his breaths, calming her thundering heart. She feels embarrassed by her sweaty palms but his hand remains in hers, the pressure of his grip comforting. 

Sides wordlessly hands her another glass of water, but her hands are shaking so badly that he has to hold it to her lips. Sunny holds her head and she gulps the water down, her teeth chattering against the glass of the cup. She continues to breathe, getting a grip on her rainbow of emotions, trying to ground herself on the steadiness of the bond. 

“It’s okay, Daph,” Sunstreaker murmurs. He tilts her head gently so he can look her in the eye. “We’re here, no matter what. We’ll always be here. For every panic attack, every nightmare, every recovery. We’ll be here and we’ll be here for you.”

Daphne can feel tears welling up in her eyes. “God, what did I do to deserve you guys?” she sniffs. 

Sunny sends her a crooked smile. “Nothing. You were just you.”

“Sunny’s right,” Sides says, squeezing her hand. It’s weird to see him without a smile or a smirk, his lips slightly downturned. “You got us by just being you. You helped a bunch of people, well, aliens, you didn’t even know because you knew it was right. You risked your life to help a bunch of strangers.”

“We are honored and lucky to be your Guardians,” Sunny agrees solemnly. 

She sniffs, brushing away the few tears that escaped. “I…” she trails off. She wanted to say ‘I love you,’ but she didn’t know how they would take it. She didn’t even know what she meant by that. How she felt towards them couldn’t be expressed in words. 

Sides chuckles. “We know.” He shares a look with Sunny. “We feel… the same. You are precious to us, Daphne Winters. More than you will ever know.”

“The pain you felt when you were gone, we felt something similar,” Sunny says slowly. His face is blank, but two sharp flashes of maroon agony go through the bond. “It’s not the same, of course, but to not feel the bond almost destroyed us.” The second part hurt Sunny to admit, a flash of pain crossing his face

Daphne knew how they felt. She could remember the crippling loneliness and hopelessness as she tried in vain to feel the bond, feel her magic. “It felt like I suddenly went blind after being given my sight back, but, like, times a hundred.”

  
Sides nods solemnly. “It was incredibly spark wrenching,” he agrees and his grip tightens on her hand. “I never want to feel that again. Never of us do. I’m never going to leave your side, Daphne.”

A small smile spreads across her face. “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“Oh, I intend to keep it.” That familiar amusement twinkles in his eyes as he changes the subject. “In the morning, your family will be coming by. Your dad and Hope were staying the night last night, Bryce the night before, but they went home to get some rest.”

Daphne perks up. “Hope’s still here?”

“She’s going to be insulted that you said that,” Sunny points out. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she says.

“I like Hope,” Sunny says suddenly. Sides nods in agreement. “She’s… nice, enough for a human. She should join NEST.”

Daphne laughs. “She’ll be happy to hear that. She pauses. “How, how long was I gone?”

“Seven days,” Sides says and her eyes widen. “Nine days since you were… taken.”

“Oh,” she says, sinking into her pillows. Sunny is now holding her other hand. She kinda misses his fingers in her hair. “It had felt longer.”

“We know,” Sunny murmurs softly and her Guardians exchange another look. “It felt like months. Never do that again, okay?”

She glares at him. “I’m not planning to.” He chuckles and Sides smiles slightly. She yawns and feels a wave of exhaustion go through her, despite being asleep for the past two days. But that’s what panic attacks do to you.

“Tired?” Sunny asks. 

“Yeah,” she yawns. “Panic attacks, and, you know, a week of some religion fanatic torturing you really takes it out of you.”

Both of her Guardians roll their eyes. “I’ve gotta go patrol now that you’re awake, update Optimus and Jazz. Sunny will stay with you,  _ beshami, _ ” Sides says. Sunny starts at the foreign word, his eyes going wide, but Sides doesn’t notice. He slowly gets up and reluctantly lets go of her hand. He smooths her hair back, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. He murmurs something she can’t understand and then his holoform disappears in a sheet of sparks. 

“Ready to go to bed?” Sunny asks. His face is calm, but she can feel his lilac unease. 

“Yeah,” she yawns again. He leans back into his chair as she nestles into her bed, pulling her blankets around her, careful of the IV as Sunny pulls his hand away. She closes her eyes, letting out a deep breath. 

A few minutes pass, but she can’t fall asleep. She can feel the press of her earlier panic attack, and the memories, or lack thereof, that triggered it. The helplessness and disorientation. The pain and anger. The feelings return and she can feel the echo of purple panic crawl up her throat. 

“Sunny?”

“Yes,  _ ah lan? _ ”

“Could… could you sleep next to me?”

“I’m already sleeping next to you.”

“No, I mean, like, could you, maybe, sleep in the bed next to me?” she asks, cracking open an eye. He’s still, but she can feel his canary yellow amusement. “I can’t sleep. It’s, it’s, just, like, too much.”

“I understand,” he says. He gets up from his chair, pushing down the side of the bed, climbing in on the other side so her IV doesn’t get tangled up. She scoots over and he carefully lies down. It’s a tight fit, Sunny’s tall and broad. The panic eases, but it’s not gone completely, so she snuggles into Sunny’s side, her head resting on his chest, her hand balled up his stomach. 

He’s stiff at first but slowly starts to relax. He threads his arm under her, his fingers running through her hair. She hums in mulberry contentment and she’s pretty sure she’s projecting it as Sunny completely relaxes. He’s warm and the thrum of his sparkbeat lulls her to sleep. 

~~~

Daphne wakes up and she is warm and happy. She’s curled into Sunstreaker’s chest, her leg swung over him, his arm curled around her waist. His face is buried in her hair and his rhythmic breaths tickle her. She feels safer than she’s ever felt before. 

She doesn’t know how she feels. She can’t understand the dizzying array of pinks that flash through her, chasing away the echo of panicked purple. She feels something for them beyond the bond and gratitude for saving her. She can feel it wiggle its way into her heart, feel her cheeks start to blush as Sunny’s arm tightens around her. 

She slowly opens her eyes to see Sideswipe sitting in the chair Sunstreaker was the previous night. There’s a small smile on his face as her eyes meet his over the still sleeping Sunstreaker. “Hey,” he says softly. 

“Hey,” she replies, yawning slightly. “What time is it?”

“Around eight. Your family’s gonna be here in thirty minutes or so,” he informs her. She nods, wanting nothing more than to bury her head in Sunny’s chest and fall back asleep. But, she wants to see her family. A twinge of longing goes through her as she thinks of her dad’s hugs, her mom’s comforting words, her grandma’s familiar cooking. 

She carefully disentangles herself from Sunny, absently running a hand through his curls. “Could you help me to the bathroom?” she whispers. 

Sides is up in an instant, helping her up to her feet. He holds her against him as a wave of dizziness goes through. He practically carries her to the bathroom, one strong hand around her waist, the other on her IV pole. “You good?” he asks and she nods. “Good. I’ll wake Sunny up and get your nurse.”

“Thanks, Sides,” she smiles, bracing herself against the doorframe. He wraps her up in his arms and she closes her eyes, soaking it in. He smells nice, like sea salt and sunlight. He squeezes her once before quietly shutting the bathroom door. 

She looks tired. There are deep, purple bags under her eyes and her hair looks flat and lifeless. Her skin practically looks white, leeched of its warm ivory color. She traces the bruises on her forearms to the bruises on her neck, the sickly green color disappearing once the veins hit her jawline. She has bandages on her wrist and ankles from the handcuffs and burn marks circling her neck like a brand. 

In short, she looks like she’s been through hell and back. 

Bracing herself on the sink, she splashes some water on her face, brushes her teeth. She wishes she could shower, but she’s still too weak. She’d probably fall and break her head without anyone helping her. Maybe she’ll ask Bryce or Hope. 

She shivers under her hospital gown as she opens the bathroom door, one hand gripping the wall. A friendly looking nurse starts before giving her a smile. Sunny is nowhere to be, never is Sides. She pushes down the slight panic she feels over not having her Guardians in her sight. “Ah, look who’s up! Your nice young man told me you were up.”

Daphne weakly returns the smile. “Yeah, it was nice to wash my face, brush my teeth.” She hesitates. “Do-do you think you could help me back to my bed? I don’t know if I could make it myself.”

“Oh, of course, dear!” The nurse quickly walks toward her, letting Daphne lean heavily on her outstretched arm. Daphne is sweating slightly by the time she’s laying back in her bed, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. The nurse fluffs her pillows up, making sure she’s comfortable. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m okay? I’m still really tired. I feel a little stiff, and… And the, uh, well, the burn on my neck is a little sensitive.”

The nurse clucks her tongue in sympathy, changing out Daphne’s IV before getting an ointment. “This will help with the burn, dear. I wanted to put some bandages on it, but your friends and family thought it was a bad idea.”

Daphne is silent for a moment. She couldn’t imagine how she would have felt if she had woken up and there had been something around her neck. She would have freaked out. “Yeah. That does sound like a bad idea.”

“And how do your powers feel?” Daphne looks up at the nurse in surprise. When she’s been in the hospital before, hospital staff usually tend to gloss over the fact she’s a mutant. “Oh, don’t look too surprised. Your powers are a part of you and I’m here to treat  _ all  _ of you.”

“They feel good. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she answers. 

“And would you mind if I saw a demonstration? Just to make sure everything is working fine?”

She nods, letting her magic spark to life around her. Her nurse looks delighted as Daphne allows it to settle against her skin, letting her armor appear around her hands and arms.

“Excellent! Your heart rate remained steady,” the nurse praises with a smile. Daphne lets it disappear into her skin, reveling in the feeling of her magic. The nurse gently rubs the burn ointment on Daphne’s neck and she shivers, but the itching subsides. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with your breakfast, dear. Holler if you need anything.”

Daphne nods, relaxing back into her pillows (they smell like Sunstreaker, like mint and cedarwood). She feels exhausted and starts to close her eyes when she hears the doors open again. Prying an eye open, she sits up when she sees her family. “ _ Mama _ ?” she asks, and her voice cracks. 

Her mom starts to cry immediately, running and gathering Daphne up in her arms. “Oh, my sweet girl, I thought I would never see you again,” she sobs. “I love you so much, sweetie. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Daphne clutches her mom’s shoulders and suddenly feels like she’s five years old again. 

Her dad comes and sits on her left, bowing his head and taking her hand in hers. Her  _ nai nai  _ comes in next, perching on the end of the bed, clutching her rosary and praying feverishly. To Daphne’s surprise, Jean and Hope are there too but stand back, giving her family a moment. 

“Don’t scare us again like that, Daph,” her dad says gruffly. Her mom releases her slightly but still holds her tightly as if she might disappear. 

Daphne laughs weakly. “I’m not planning on it, Dad. I missed you guys s-so much.”

“Oh, my  _ ah lan,  _ I prayed for your safety every day,” her  _ nai nai  _ says, patting her on the foot. “We are so thankful you are okay.”

“You  _ are  _ okay, right?” her mom asks, turning Daphne’s shoulders so she can look her over. Her expression falls as she sees the bandages on her wrists and ankles, the bruises, the burn. “A-are you in any pain? The doctor didn’t really tell us much.”

“Just said your body was tired and needed a break,” her dad adds softly. 

Daphne hesitates. She doesn’t want to tell them what happened. She doesn’t want to burden them with everything that happened. Her eyes flash up and meet Hope’s. A moment of understanding goes through them. They went through Seattle together. They are the only two people who really knew what happened. 

“I’m okay,” she starts, spinning the ring on her finger. Wait. She glances down. Her black ring is back on her finger. She wonders where her necklace from Sides went. “I am really tired. Exhausted. Most of my injuries were superficial. The worst is the burn from…” She trails off, her hand going up to her neck. 

Her family is silent, but she can feel the press of their pitying, angry thoughts. “It’s okay,” her mom murmurs, massaging her shoulders. “We’ll make sure you get a good therapist back in Seattle.”

Daphne frowns. “Wait, what do you mean ‘back in Seattle?’”

Her parents exchange a look. “Well, you’re coming home, right?” her mom asks slowly. 

“Why would I be coming home?” she asks in confusion. “I have a job lined up, one that’s really important.”

“Well, honey, you went through something traumatic,” her dad says gently. “You’ve got to prioritize your health over a job.”

“Working for a senator can’t be worth it,” her mom sniffs.

“You need to rest,  _ ah lan, _ ” her  _ nai nai  _ agrees. “You cannot rest at a job.”

“You don’t understand,” she says, running a hand through her hair. She doesn’t know what to say to them to make them understand the reality of the job she has. As the Autobot ambassador. She’ll just have to tell them a version of the truth. “You guys know about the terrorist attack back in Mission City?”

“What does this have to do with your job?” her mom asks, bewildered. 

Daphne takes a deep breath. Jean and Hope shift. They know what she was talking about. She wasn’t sure Hope knew until now. “Well, what you didn’t know was I helped the soldiers subdue the terrorists.” Her family looks horrified and she quickly continues. “The President offered me a job in the military for my bravery, a pretty high up job, one where I would help out a lot of people. And I said yes. That’s why I can’t go back to Seattle. I have an important job to do.” She hesitates. “You know Silas and Sawyer, right?”

“Yeah, those nice young men we met? You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone, Daph. Which one?” her mom asks and her dad raises an eyebrow. 

She turns red. “I- that’s not important, Mom. They actually work for the FBI. The job I took is pretty high up, and they were afraid that the terrorist group might try something.” The lies roll off of her tongue, but it's not entirely lies. They’re just a watered-down version of the truth. 

“What kind of job is so dangerous you need bodyguards, sweetheart? Is this worth it?” her dad asks in concern. 

“It is,” she confirms. “And I can’t come back to Seattle with you. I have a job to do.”

Her dad looks conflicted, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. Both her mom and  _ nai nai  _ look pissed, the expression on her mom’s face identical to the one she wore when Daphne would get into trouble. 

“Christina, David, Mrs. Yang, why don’t we go down to the food court?” Jean suggests. Daphne had kinda forgotten they were there. “You guys can get some coffee, maybe get some food for Daph? I know Hope’s dying to talk to her.”

Her mom starts. “I- you’re right. I could go for some coffee. You’d like something, love?” Daphne nods. “And don’t think this conversation is over, young lady. If you weren’t in a hospital, I’d be whooping your ass right now.”

“Alright!” her dad stands up, clapping his hands. “Time to go. We’ll be back soon.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head and ushers her mom and  _ nai nai  _ out of the room with Jean’s help.

There’s a beat of silence as Hope and Daphne stare at each other. The last time this happened, it was Hope in a hospital bed. Hope quietly sits down in the chair by her bedside. “Hey,” she murmurs, holding her head. 

“Hey,” Daphne says just as softly. She pats the spot next to her and scoots over as Hope hops on the bed next to her, their hands still entwined. Daphne loved her college friends, especially Bryce. But nothing could replace the bond she and Hope had. One born out of hours of training side by side in the Danger Room, fighting side by side, rooming together for years. Daphne knew everything about Hope. Hope knew everything about Daphne, even knowing how her powers worked.

“This is weird, right?” Hope asks. “Usually we’re in beds next to each other.”

Daphne chuckles. “Yeah. It is weird.”

“You are okay, right? You didn’t just say that to make your family feel better?” Hope knew how much Daphne hated to burden people with her problems. 

“Yeah, I guess? For the most important. I’m just so exhausted. And disoriented. I can’t remember much of the week. Just slivers of it.”

Hope runs a delicate finger over her bruises. “Those are new,” she remarks dryly. “That happened because… because of the collar.”

“Yeah. This too.” She gestures to the burn around her neck. “The nurse put some ointment on it and it feels better.”

Hope squeezes her hand and Daphne leans her head on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re okay, C. I was so worried. Everyone was worried. Especially Sides and Sunny.”

“I know, they told me about it. Having the bond blocked like that  _ hurt _ ,” she emphasizes. “So you know?”

“That those hot guys you were making eyes at are robots?” she raises an eyebrow and Daphne snorts. “Yeah, I know. My Mom told me about it after you left the school.” Hope hesitates. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

Daphne frowns. “Bout what?”

“Well, I was thinking, I think, maybe, that I might join NEST?” her friend phrases the statement as a question but Daphne can hear the conviction in her friend’s voice.

“Wait, what?” Daphne sits up. “You want to join NEST? Why?”

“Well, I’ve already joined,” she clarifies cheekily, wincing at Daphne’s pinch. “Ouch, you bitch. I’m joining _for_ you, silly. I know you want to create a mutant unit and I want to be a part of it. And to keep you out of trouble, of course.”

Daphne doesn’t know what to say. But she can feel the ember of hope (ha, get it? It’s a pun!) in her chest at the thought of once again fighting side by side with her best friend again. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I ship out for basic in a week. I’ve already told my Mom and the Prof. I’ll be joining you at the base end of July, beginning of August.” Hope looks determined and nothing can change her mind when she’s determined. 

Daphne sinks into her pillows. “Wow, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Maybe thank you?” Hope jokes, gently elbowing Daphne in the side. 

She laughs, squeezing Hope’s hand. There’s a moment of silence. “Hope, I’m, just, well, so thankful you’re gonna be with me. I’m not gonna know many people on base, except all the giant robots, you know.”

Hope looks at her seriously. “Whenever I can, C, I’ll be at your side. You’re my best friend. My other half. I’m gonna make sure you don’t die.” Tiny blue and orange sparks blossomed out of their entwined hands and Daphne felt a sense of peace. She’s gonna have her best friend at her side as she tries to become an ambassador, lead a squadron of mutant soldiers, overcome trauma, and, well, figured out her feelings towards two certain Autobot frontliners.

“I love you, Hope.”

“I love you too, Daphne.”

“Light it up?”

“Hell yeah, light it up.”

“... do you think you can help me shower?”

“God.” Sigh. “I guess. You’re lucky I love you so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sideswipe was sure of what he felt now. The pain of separation had offered him a clarity he had never achieved before. He loved her. Daphne. She was his beshami, maybe his brother's as well. 
> 
> He saw the look on his brother's face when he claimed her. Sunny looked surprised, confused, hurt, and jealous. Good. That's exactly how Sunny should feel. Sunny should want Daphne too, just as badly as Sides wants her. 
> 
> But Sides doesn't just want her. There's no word to clearly articulate how he felt about her. But his spark knew. He felt like he was a planet and Daphne was the sun. He wanted to be apart of her orbit. 
> 
> He loved her. That's how he felt. She was the being meant to be his, and he was meant to be hers. She was so smart and powerful and beautiful. 
> 
> He now knew why she was called Celestial. The solar system lived within her. Stars twinkled in her eyes. The sun lived under her skin. 
> 
> Sides knew she wasn't there yet. He knew from the confusing cloud of her emotions. But he'd be there when she decided. He'd stick by her side until the world turned old. 
> 
> He was hers. She was his. It was meant to be.
> 
> [AN: Wow, really is a slow burn, over 80k words and just getting into romance?? Also, are y'all excited to see more of Hope? Tell me in the comments if there are any other mutants/other characters you want to co-star!]


	22. i think i can rely on you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl begins her new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the later update! Just moved into my new house for the school year! This will most likely be the start of my new every two-week update schedule. No end-note story this week.

Daphne didn’t realize it would be this hard to leave California. She thought she’d be able to just wave goodbye and be on her way to Nevada.

But now that she’s here, hugging Bryce goodbye, her life packed up into boxes, realizing she won’t be able to smell the ocean anymore, she’s suddenly afraid of letting go and moving on. 

Let’s back up. 

She’s been out of the hospital for a week, in the hospital for five days. Once she was discharged, her parents and her  _ nai nai  _ reluctantly left. Her mom was, and still is, furious. There had been snide comments, break downs, and yelling matches. Her dad, bless him, finally convinced her mom she’d be safe, especially since Daphne was going to be living on a military base. 

Daphne felt bad for basically kicking her family out of her life. But her dad understood. She didn’t want to burden them with her problems. She didn’t want to be stuck in her hometown, forbidden to leave the house like she was a kid again. She needed to escape. She needed to move on. She needed to unpause her life. 

She best dealt with trauma but just  _ doing.  _ Whether that be working or school or distracting herself with friends, she couldn’t sit with her thoughts and memories. And if she stopped doing, she’d be sucked back into that dark place. 

Her Guardians hadn’t really approved of her plan (neither had her friends for that matter). Sunstreaker had been the one who firmly insisted she’d see the therapist on base. She reluctantly agreed. She knew it was best, but she just didn’t really want to talk about it. When she talked about it, she was brought back to that place of hazy confusion and pain. 

She had nightmares every night. When she was first discharged and came home, she had woken up her whole house with her screams. Bryce slept with her that night, Daphne curled up next to her. But she still woke up a couple of times, gasping for air, her hands going up to her throat. 

The next night and the nights after, one of her Guardians would sleep next to her. It was only with the comfort of the bond she could sleep for a night. 

She was still weak and got tired easily. Bryce took her out shopping for some more professional clothes for Daphne’s new job. There were a couple of times Daphne would have to lean on Bryce, unable to catch her breath. The older ladies in the store gave her sour looks when their eyes landed on the bruises winding up her body. Bryce had actually barked at them and Daphne laughed for what felt like the first time in years. 

Alan and Chantel tearfully helped her pack while Bryce cooked. They didn’t entirely understand where she was going, except that she had some super-secret job the President gave her. Daphne thought Bryce knew. She saw the looks her friends gave her Guardians, the distaste clear on her face. 

Her Guardians were stuck to her side like magnets. She didn’t mind it, though. She was scared of being alone. Especially in the dark. They understood. Sideswipe was almost always touching her, a hand in her hair, his leg pressed against hers, a light touch on her back. Sunstreaker was more talkative. When he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d stare at her and she could feel him pulling at the bond as if reassuring himself she was still there. 

Back to the present. 

Bryce is crushing Daphne against her, the taller woman’s face buried in her hair. She’s already said goodbye to Alan and Chantel who had to go to work. “God, I’m gonna fucking miss you, Daph,” she chokes. 

“Me too, B,” Daphne murmurs, her hand clutching Bryce’s shirt. 

Bryce sniffs, letting Daphne go, wiping at her eyes. “Stay safe, okay? Don’t do anything too dumb.” She hesitates, her eyes flickering to Sunny and Sides standing behind Daphne. Daphne can feel her friend’s anxiety surge, glimpse her storming thoughts. “A-and, Daph, I’m just, just so, so sorry.” Bryce’s amber eyes are rimmed with red and guilt pours off of her

“It’s not your fault, Bryce. It wasn’t mine either,” Daphne reminds her gently. She thinks she might be lying when she says that last part. She doesn’t know. She knows it’s not her fault, but she also  _ doesn’t  _ know it’s not her fault. “I’ll stay safe. I promise.”

“And call me every week? We have to get together for Halloween. We’ll drive down and meet you in Vegas,” Bryce insists. 

Daphne chuckles, brushing away a tear. “That sounds nice. I’ll see if I can get the time off.”

Bryce gives her one more hug and Daphne feels like she’s saying goodbye to her whole life. “I love you, Daph.”

“Love you too, B.”

Bryce leaves before she can cry even more, waving goodbye, and slamming the apartment door. Daphne can feel her friend’s distress and she reluctantly walks down to the parking lot. Sides slings his arm around her and Sunny reluctantly takes Persephone’s kennel. She hisses at him and Daphne hides her smile at his flinch. 

“You ready for this epic road trip?” Sides asks, smiling down at her. 

She shrugs, squinting as she steps into the bright sun. “Eh. It’s gonna be long. Long trips where you’re just sitting aren’t good for the human body.”

“She doesn’t want to hear you ramble, Sides,” Sunny adds dryly. She looks over her shoulder and sends him a smile. He returns it, but the smile quickly disappears when Persephone hisses at him again. Her cat thoroughly dislikes her Guardians and it makes her laugh that two giant robots are scared of a small cat. “Besides, she’s gonna ride with me and make sure her little demon spawn doesn’t scratch up my interior.”

“Ah,” Sides pouts, reaching over and flicking Sunny. 

“Persephone is not a demon,” she scolds, snatching her cat’s kennel from him as they reach their alt modes. Sunny’s bright gold paint flashes in the California summer sun, Sides’ paint hot to the touch. “She’s a lady.”

Sunny rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Just make sure she doesn’t scratch anything.”

“I hope she does, brother. It’ll be payback for snatching Daphne away from me,” Sides teases. His holoform disappears just as Sunny reaches to slap him. Sunny ends up slapping the air and she giggles. 

“Watch it,” he growls. But she can feel his canary yellow amusement and the hint of carnation affection in his blue eyes. He opens the door for her and she carefully sets Persephone’s kennel on the floor next to her feet. She meows and Daphne absently scratches her head.

Sunny sits down in the driver’s seat, smoothly pulling out of the parking lot, Sides flashing his brights behind them. She settles in, rolling the windows down, taking in the sea salt California air for the last time. 

Daphne feels Sunny’s eyes on her and she glances over at him. “What’s up, Sunny?”

“I still despise that name, you know,” he sighs. 

“I know,” she replies cheekily.

“You’re gonna miss California, aren’t you?” he asks, but his tone makes it more of a statement.

“Yeah,” she says softly. “I’m going to miss it a lot.”

She can feel his independence blue thoughtfulness, feel him pulling at the bond. She opens up, letting him feel her violet anxiety, lemon apprehension, iron worry, but also her pineapple excitement and hello purple anticipation. 

“Excitement?” he asks as they drive onto the freeway.

“Yeah. I’m really excited to start,” she says sincerely. And she is. Not just because it gives her something to do, but this is possibly the job she’s going to do for the rest of her life. Books are going to be written about her, the first human Autobot ambassador. History will remember her as an important diplomatic link between humans and the Autobots.

“Good.” He pauses and she can feel his pineapple excitement and smokey relief and mulberry contentment he was hiding. “Sides and I are excited too.” Another pause and his mouth quirks up into a smile. “He says ‘as excited as you are when you go out to the clubs.”

She laughs. “Why didn’t he tell me himself over the radio?”

“He’s giving us time to talk for once, the glitch,” he says affectionately. 

“I’m happy you guys are going to be back with Bots. I've always felt guilty that I took you away from your friends.”

“Never feel guilty,” Sunny says sincerely, reaching over and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Being your Guardians is an honor.” He’s colored in mint sincerity. “We’d rather be alone in a desert, protecting you, than to be in a room full of our friends and fellow soldiers, but you are not by our side.”

She blushes. They’ve told her that before, when she first woke up in the hospital, but it always makes her heart fly, coloring her heart in lavender trust, carnation affection, deep purple understanding, and baby blue calm. “I can’t hear that enough,” she admits. 

Sunny smirks, flashing her a rather flirtatious look usually seen on Sideswipe. “Oh, we know,” he chuckles, squeezing her hand again. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She yawns, covering it with a yawn. “Well, I like hearing it.”

“Good,” he says, and something in his voice makes her shiver. “Why don’t you go to sleep? You look tired.”

She considers it. She is really tired. She tried to hide her mauve exhaustion, but her body betrayed her. “Yeah, I am. Do you think you could turn on some music?”

He rolls his eyes, but obediently turns on the radio. Sunny tries to pretend he hates human music, but she knows better. When he thinks no one’s looking, he taps his foot and hums along to the song. He likes softer, older songs, but surprisingly likes a lot of punk and new wave. 

(Sides unabashedly likes a lot of pop and rap. He likes songs with a lot of bass and a rhythm you can dance to.)

So it is no surprise when he turns on the Smiths, a shared band they both like. She smiles, closing her eyes as she leans against the window, the sun warming her face. Her body is still stiff from still healing bruises, but Sunny (ugh, that sounds super weird) is surprisingly comfortable. 

Sunny is still holding her hand, letting their entwined hands rest on her thigh. He starts to hum along to  _ There Is A Light That Never Goes Out  _ as she drifts off. This is the most at peace she’s felt in a while. 

~~~

“Daphne.” She’s shaken awake by Sunstreaker. There’s a soft smile on his face as he smiles down at her. “We’re here.”

“Wait, what?” she asks groggily. Sitting up and stretching in her seat, she realizes that, yes, they are in fact in the Jasper base.

“Yes,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Come on, get out. There’s some people who want to see you.”

“Okay,” she yawns, wiping at her eyes. She picks up Persephone’s kennel, who meows up at her, stepping out of Sunny’s alt mode. Almost immediately, she can hear the familiar sounds of transformation and turns around to watch. 

Sunny smoothly transforms into his alt mode, his paint gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Daphne only has time to set Persephone’s kennel on the ground before she’s “gently” snatched up by Sideswipe. Her head spins as he brings her up to eye level, his wide optics combined with his horns making him look like an owl.

“I can’t believe you were asleep the whole time,” he whines. 

Daphne is still trying to catch her breath, her head screaming at her. “Frag, Sides, you can’t grab her like that,” Sunny seethes behind her. 

“You hogged her the whole trip,” Sides says, bringing her closer to his chest as if this was a game of tug-of-war. She still hasn’t caught her breath and sends the vertigo, and irritation, she’s feeling to Sides. He pauses, swaying slightly on his wheeled pedes. “Oh, Blue, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I hurt you.”

Sunny snorts and she waves him off. “I-it’s fine,” she wheezes, but allows her magic to shock her slightly. “Just don’t do that ever again. Where’s Persephone?”

“Lennox has her,” Sunny answers. 

Daphne peers over Sides’ servos, who tightens his hold on her, and Sunny clicks his tongue. Lennox waves up at her. “Good to see you’re feeling better, Daph.”

“As good as I can be, Will,” she smiles. 

He coos at Persephone, sticking a hand in and scratching her. “You mind if I bring her into the rec room? I know some folks will appreciate playing with her.”

“Totally,” she calls down. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

“No problem.”

Sides starts to roll off, Sunny walking behind them. “Where are we going?” she asks, clutching Sides’ metal fingers. They’re going in the opposite direction of Lennox. 

“Going to  _ our  _ rec room,” Sides replies smugly. “Got some ‘Bots who want to see you.”

“It’s not everyone, right?” she asks, worried. “Cause I’m not really up to being ambushed by a crowd of giant metal beings.”

“Bluestreak won’t be there, don’t worry,” Sides chuckles.

Daphne rolls her eyes, goes to elbow him, but then realized it would hurt her way more than it would hurt him. “Blue’s nice, I like him.”

Sunny snorts. “Nice, sure. But he’s too talkative for his own good. He just needs to shut up.”

“Kinda sounds like Sides,” she jokes and Sides jostles her gently. 

“But you looooove me,” he croons and she can feel her cheeks start to warm.

“Shut up, Sides,” she and Sunny say at the same time as they reach the Autobot rec room. Sides pouts but she can feel his canary yellow amusement. 

She’s greeted by Optimus, Jazz, Prowl, and Ratchet. She can feel the prickling sensation of Ratchet’s scans, his blue optics narrowed on her. “Hello to you too, Ratchet,” she says dryly. 

Ratchet scoffs and she can feel the prickling sensation disappear. “Excuse me for caring about your health, dear one.” She had forgotten about that certain pet name the older Autobots had bestowed upon her, and the certain condescending, but endearing way Ratchet said it. “I expect to see you in the med bay tomorrow morning. You too, twins.”

She chuckles, feeling her Guardians’ lime distaste. “Wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

“I am pleased to see you are feeling much better, Daphne,” Optimus greets, his blue optics kind. Sides opens his hand slightly so she can see them better. Even raised up on Sides’ palm, she still can’t meet Optimus’ gaze. “And it is good to see you, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker. I trust all is well?”

“Yes, sir,” Sunstreaker replies. “We are looking forward to being on base and working with the humans.” 

“And you are still willing to be Daphne’s Guardians?” Optimus asks. If she concentrates, she can see his red and blue aura, feel the calming hum of it. 

“Of course,” Sides says immediately, a certain edge to his voice. “Wouldn’t dream of abandoning her now.”

Optimus chuckles. “Very well. Dear one, we are happy you will be with us on base. Your presence will be very welcome in dealing with your government.”   


“Bunch of warmongers, dey are,” Jazz scoffs, crossing his arms. 

“Jazz,” Prowl scolds, the white and black mech glaring at him. “Your government is difficult, yes, but nothing we cannot deal with together.”

Daphne nods. She knows what they mean. She remembers back to the meeting in November, with Secretary Keller and General Morshower wanting Autobot weapons. She’s glad they have allies in the President and Fitzwallace, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. “Yeah. They’re focusing on what’s right to further the American militaristic, frankly imperialistic, agenda. They don’t care as much about the international implication, as long as American allies benefit and their enemies suffer. Although NEST is an American treaty, we should focus on protecting the Earth, not just America.”

“Well said,” Optimus says approvingly. “We are operating under a similar mindset. But I do think your government may take your thoughts on the matter more seriously.”

She snorts. “I don’t think so. They think I’m too young to do this. Also, there’s probably a little bit of sexism at play.” A hint of carmine anger comes from the bond. 

Optimus nods gravely. “I understand. We will try our best to make clear our support and trust in you.”

“Thanks, Optimus,” she smiles. “I’ll earn their respect eventually. The President’s support is good for now.”

“He’s an interesting fellow,” Jazz comments. 

“A fine ally,” Optimus agrees and she tries to hide her laugh. “We are lucky he supports us.”

“Definitely,” she says. She yawns, sleepiness tugging at her. She’s surprised that she’s tired already, even though she slept the whole way here. 

Ratchet’s optics narrow on her. “Go to sleep,” he orders, the prickling sensation returning. “Your body requires sleep to heal from its injuries.”

“I know,” she sighs, disappointed. “I had just wanted to stay up and talk more.”

“They’ll be here tomorrow, Blue,” Sides points out. 

She sighs again, but gives in. “Okay, good night.”

“Good night,” the Bots chorus. 

“I want to see you tomorrow morning. All three of you!” Ratchet calls as Sides quickly rolls out of there.

“Like Pit, he’ll see me,” Sides mutters. 

“I’d rather be stuck with Bluestreak’s yammering,” Sunny agrees and she laughs. 

“If I’m there, he’ll expect you guys to be there. And you want Ratchet to check me out, I know it,” she says. 

“Shhh, your logic is ruining our plans,” Sides scolds, poking her back. 

She rolls her eyes as they end up near Ratchet’s medbay. There’s a tinier door to the right, about fifty feet away. Immediately next to it, there’s a much larger door that an Autobot could fit through. 

Sides slowly sets her down, Sunny watching him like a hawk. “This is your room,” Sunny says, pointing at the smaller door. “We’ll be right next door.”

“Oh, cool,” she says, opening the door and peering in. It’s pretty basic, but basic is all she needs. All of her stuff is surprisingly in there. 

“Anything you need, we’ll be there,” Sides promises. She turns around and gives him a smile. 

“Thanks, guys. Hopefully, I’ll be able to fall asleep.”

Sunny’s gaze softens. “If you have a nightmare, you can come to us, or we can come to us.”

Her cheeks heat up and feels punch pink embarrassment. “You promise?” she asks softly. She doesn’t like to rely on other people, doesn’t like to burden others with her problems. 

“Of course,” Sides replies, squatting down and gently ruffling her hair. “We’re here for you. No matter what.”

~~~

Anger is not the right word to describe how Sunstreaker is feeling. Embarrassed, betrayed, possessive, hurt. 

Sideswipe knows it. His brother has known it since he claimed  _ their  _ charge as  _ beshami.  _ This the first time they’ve been alone since they got Daphne back, and Sunstreaker has been waiting for this moment. 

“What did you do, Sides?” he says quietly. 

“You wouldn’t understand, Sunny, you can’t-” Sides protests. 

“What the  _ Pit  _ did you do?” he hisses, slamming down on his berth and standing up. Sides’ optics widen at the rage pouring off of him. 

“She’s our  _ beshami,  _ Sunny, can’t you feel it?” Sides says. 

“That’s not the fragging point, Sideswipe.  _ You  _ claimed her. You did. Not us.”

Sides scoffs, his optics hard. “Oh, so this is what this is about? That you’re jealous?”

Embarrassment blooms in his spark but he pushes it down. “No. I’m angry at your selfishness and your inability to read the room. Maybe you were ready to claim her, but I sure as Pit wasn’t. What happens when she asks someone what that means? Are you ready to have that conversation with her? Cause I’m not. And neither is she.”

Sides crosses his arm. “What do you want me to do, Sunny? I can’t take it back. I can’t get rid of these feelings.”

Sunstreaker rolls his eyes. “That’s not the point. I don’t care about your feelings. I… feel something similar, I’m not sure. The point is she’s ours. Not yours. Not mine.  _ Ours.  _ You need to wait until I’m ready. Until she’s ready.”

“What do you want me to do?” Sides asks again and he can feel his brother’s irritation rising.

“Just, just don’t do anything more than what you’re doing now. Not until I’m ready,” Sunstreaker states. 

Sides looks at him, a storm of emotions going through their bond. “Fine. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Sunstreaker pauses, feeling Daphne’s panic and fear rising. Her emotions are as familiar to him as his own. “She’s having another nightmare.” He sits back down on his berth, activating his holoform. “We’ll talk more about this later.”


	23. you have everything now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl gets used to her new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: I have no idea how the military works! I only know, kinda, how the government works, so fair warning. Also, I'm back with an end note story! Enjoy!

And so began Daphne’s life on base. 

The first week was hard, filled with meeting after meeting. She tried to make time for a quick nap every day, exhaustion dragging at her by lunchtime. Ratchet reassured her that it was normal after prolonged exposure to X and having her powers suppressed. He gave her some salve to put on the lingering bruises, the final physical reminder of her captivity disappearing by morning.

She met her staff on her third day in Jasper. Jazz had led her up to the ground level, his holoform only a few inches taller than her. She was reminded how much she liked Jazz- when he wasn’t quizzing her on Cybetronian politics. Her staff had seemed shocked by how young she was, but it was quickly covered by her new assistant. 

“Leilani Alberts,” she introduced, her dark hair braided down her back. Leilani looked to be in her late twenties, with smiling amber eyes and a quick wit. “I’ll be your personal assistant, Ms. Winters. I’ll coordinate with our research team-” she indicated two older men, both with a slight scowl on their faces. “-and our policy team,” pointing to the three other staff members. “Our goal is to support you in whatever capacity is needed.”

Jazz smiled at Daphne encouragingly. “Thank you,” Daphne smiled. “But, please, refer to me as Daphne.”

“Of course, whatever you’re comfortable with,” Leilani nodded, noting it down on a notepad. “Is there anything you’d like us to be working on?”

Daphne started. “Oh-yes, of course,” she said, her tongue limping over the words. She was suddenly nervous having subordinates, especially with all of them being older than her. But, she could do this. She would do this. Optimus believed in her. The President believed in her. And, dammit, she believed in herself. “I’d like some briefs on current administration policy regarding new military technology and how that can be required. I want to know General Morshower’s and Secretary Keller’s history with international relations and how they feel about international bodies, specifically international law, and if they believe it has any merit. Also, every week, I want briefings on any Decepticon movement and the American response to it, along with any international developments.”

Leilani grinned, her teeth flashing white against her brown skin, her shoulders relaxing. “Aye aye, Captain.” She turned to the rest of the staff. “You heard Ambassador Winters. Get going.”

That had been the most stressful part of her week. She could feel the two older men’s distaste on the back of her tongue, even telling Jazz that. Feeling their distaste had reminded her of… that woman who had tortured her, the man who watched as her as he tried to convert her. Anxiety bloomed violet in her chest, turning her cold in the burning heat. The Autobot had reassured her that they had been thoroughly investigated to assure they had no ties to the Purifiers- or any other hate group for that matter. 

Jazz’s visor had flashed blue and soon after, her Guardians had met them walking back to the Autobot side of the base. Sideswipe immediately picked her up, sending her a wave of baby blue calm and lavender trust through the bond. Sunstreaker nodded at Jazz, his optics flickering to her in fern concern. 

They had insisted that she go see the therapist on base and she reluctantly agreed to. “You’re always anxious, Daphne,” Sunny had said gently, bringing her close to his sparkchamber. “We can feel it. It’s like you’re always preparing for a fight.”

“It’s cause I am,” she said weakly. 

Sides rolled his optics, ruffling her hair. Now that they were in their Bot forms most of the time, she couldn’t physically hit Sides when he was annoying, which was a bummer. “Come on, Blue, don’t be stubborn. You’re not being a burden. We all know how bad your nightmares are- and that’s okay, totally okay. But I think the therapist could help. Not that I don’t mind being your teddy bear,” he winked. 

“Sideswipe,” Sunny hissed, pushing his brother away. Daphne smiled. She was incredibly lucky to have Bots like Sides and Sunny by her side. She’d wake up in a cold sweat to see one of her Guardians walking into her room, quietly laying down next to her, wrapping his arms around her. It was only next to them, hearing the steady thrum of their sparkbeats, feel the closeness of the bond, could she truly have a good night of sleep. Sides would hum, running his hands through her hair, her head cradled on his chest. Sunny would tell her stories of Cybertron if she asked, her back pressed against his chest. 

The next day, she went to the on-base therapist. She was nervous, her palms sweating, her face gone. Sides and Sunny had wanted to come with her, but they had to run drills with Lennox and Ironhide. 

She gently knocked on the door, a quiet voice telling her to come in. Dr. Jones’ office was three doors down from hers, the lights off, allowing the natural light of the large window to light the room. He had books everywhere- stacked on his desk, next to the door, carefully organized in his bookshelves. He appeared to be in his late fifties, salt and pepper hair, dark black skin, and a kind face. 

“Ms. Winters, nice to meet you,” he greeted, standing up from behind his desk and shaking her hand. 

She gave him a small smile, sitting in the nice armchair across from him. “You too, Dr. Jones,” she said, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt. 

“Wish it was under different circumstances,” he added quietly with a slight Southern accent. “I am sorry to hear about your kidnapping.”

She started slightly. No one had really talked about it so… bluntly, before. They had all talked around that word, referring to the kidnapping as the time she was gone. “Me too,” she replied and he chuckled. 

“And how are you feeling? Physically?”

“Okay. All my bruises have healed. Same with the burns. I’m less tired, but naps are always nice.”

He nodded, jotting that down in a small notebook in front of him. “And your powers?”

She let out a harsh laugh. “No offense, but I don’t know if you’d understand, Dr. Jones.”

“None taken. Most in my field have not kept up with the times and read the literature on the nuances of the mutant experiences and the unique psychological approach to talk about those experiences and the trauma that comes with them. But, rest assured, Ms. Winters. I was handpicked by Commander Lennox and Optimus Prime himself- sworn to secrecy, of course. It was because my specialty in working with mutants that got me hired, as Lennox and Prime indicated there will be a sizable mutant population here in the coming months.” He smiled. “So, how are powers?”

She paused. It was rare to find anyone who specialized in mutant anything, especially psychology. She wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “They’re good,” she said, letting her magic spark around her hands. A spark lit up in Dr. Jones’ eyes as he wrote in his notebook. “I think I’m using them more now. It hurt a lot when I couldn’t use them. Hurt physically, but hurt a lot mentally, emotionally.”

He hummed. “Understandable. You’ve had your powers since you were twelve, correct?” She nodded. “Not only were you being, well, tortured, but you were also being robbed of something that has been with you for almost half of your life. For a human, it would have been like suddenly losing a limb. Of course, after regaining your powers, you'd want to have the comfort of knowing you can use your powers."

“Oh,” she said. “That makes sense.” Her powers are a part of her, a constant hum under her skin, and like Dr. Jones said another limb. Wearing that color, unable to lose her powers, she felt blind, like she was missing something important about the world. That burst of power that went through her when she was rescued had been heavenly, the feeling of release. 

“But your powers aren’t the only thing you got back, correct?” he asked, fixing her with a stare. “You have a… bond, with two of the Autobots?”

She coughed, squirming in her chair. “I-well, yes,” she got out, her cheeks turning red. “We have a telepathic bond. They’re my Guardians.”

“Fascinating,” he murmured, noting that. “And the bond was affected by the collar, correct?” She nodded. “I see. And how did losing the bond affect you?”

Her chest tightened. “It, it was horrible,” she said quietly. “We’ve had the bond for seven months. I can  _ always  _ feel them, no matter what. And they can feel me.” Her fingers twitching, pulling on the intangible bond, the comforting presence of gold and silver spilling into her head like starlight. “Not being able to feel them… It hurt more than losing my powers. I couldn’t feel them, at all. I could feel my powers pressing against my skin, but I couldn’t feel them at all. There was nothing there. I was alone after having someone there for months.”

“And do you feel any anxiety over losing the bond again?”

She hesitated. “Yes. They didn’t leave my side for two weeks. The only reason they’re not pacing outside the door is that we’re surrounded by the other Autobots. They think I’m safe here.”

He underlined something. “Daphne, do you think you’re safe here?” he asked. 

“Rationally, I know I am. I know I’m surrounded by trained military personnel who went through rigorous background checks. I know an Autobot is only a shout away. And I know Sides and Sunny won’t let someone take me ever again. But…”

“But?” he prodded, raising an eyebrow.

“But, I-I don’t know. Like, yesterday, I could feel two of my staff member's distaste pressing up against me, and suddenly I was back in that fucking room, and I could see the hatred on  _ their  _ faces-” she felt like she was running out of air to breathe, the walls closing in around her, her body telling her to  _ run run run. _

“Daphne, breathe,” Dr. Jones instructed, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She copied him, her body shaking like a leaf. Once she was no longer hyperventilating, he handed her a glass of water, a concerned look on his face. “Do you usually get bad panic attacks?” he asked. 

“Every two months or so,” Daphne answered. Her name was Daphne Winters. She was 21 years old. She was safe. No one could hurt her. The people she loved would take care of her. “Sides and Sunny have helped a lot.”

“You like having some sort of emotional anchor?” he asked, keeping an eye on her.

“Yeah, I guess. Back in New York, I had my best friend Hope. She was a telepath. She was always there for me when I needed her.”   


“I see,” he noted. “How else have your emotional anchors helped you?”

“Nightmares,” she said. “I’ve been getting bad nightmares since the… since the kidnapping. Sides or Sunny will come to lay with me until I can get back to sleep.”

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, writing something down. “Usually, I advise against codependency and advocate for coping methods you only need yourself for, but, in this case, it seems like an emotional anchor is what you need. I’ve read your file, I understand your powers. And it seems like having another person there for you, someone for whom you can attach onto, feel their feelings of calm, maybe the best option. And you like the bond, yes?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately. “It’s honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Usually, with my powers, I’m always latching onto other people’s emotions, but with the bond, it’s mostly… quiet. It’s always there, but I can tune it out if I want.”

“Excellent,” he said with a smile. “Daphne, I think both you and I understand you tend to be an anxious person. Which is okay. We’ll work on controlling your powers once we’ve worked through your trauma regarding your kidnapping. But, for now, I’m going to recommend you take some time to just sit with your Guardians, and just talk. Every day. Feel the bond. Feel their contentment. Understand that you are safe.”

And they did just that. 

Sideswipe was pleased to hear that she was required to spend time with them. Sunstreaker put on an unenthused facade, but she could feel his carnation affection and pineapple excitement. 

They drove a few miles into the desert. Her Guardians transformed and she was lying peacefully on Sideswipe’s chest, smiling at the twinkling stars. She took in the bond, the swirling colors, the baby blue calm, mulberry contentment. There was no worry, her hovering violet anxiety was nowhere to be felt. “This is nice,” she breathed, her eyes tracing the Big Dipper. 

“Yeah,” Sideswipe hummed. “Your sky is very pretty. We didn’t have these constellations back on Cybertron.”

“No?” she asked, propping herself up so she could meet his optics.

“No,” Sunny confirmed. “Our night sky was quite different from yours.” There’s a tinge of yale blue sadness and pewter loss to his statement. 

“Do you miss home?” she asked quietly, Sides’ spark thrumming underneath her. 

“Primus, yes,” Sides breathed. “So much. We’d give anything to be back home.”

“From what Sunny tells me, Cybertron was beautiful.”

“It was beautiful,” Sides confirmed. He shifts slightly, cupping a hand over her so she won’t fall. “There’s one constellation that’s the same,” he said, pointing to Orion in the sky. “That one.”

“Orion,” she supplied, tracing it with a finger. “It’s my favorite constellation.”

“We called it ‘Nataraja,’” Sunny said quietly. “Cosmic dancer. It was said to be a spark who was reunited with Primus.”

“That’s pretty,” she replied, silently saying the word a few times. “Did you know I was called Celestial at school? Xavier’s, I mean. Hope and I came up with it.”

“Why’d you come up with Celestial?”

She blushed, squirming slightly. “It was stupid. I used to think I had stardust in my veins or something stupid like that. I was twelve, and I hadn’t seen any other powers like mine before. And Celestial seemed to the right name for it. I thought I was from outer space or something,” she chuckled. 

There was a pause. “I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” Sides said lowly. She lifted her head to meet his serious optics. 

“It’s an apt name,” Sunny agreed. “ _ Najmat sagirha, _ ” he added affectionately. 

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Little star,” Sunny said, turning to smile at her. Carnation affection bloomed in his optics, cracking his sullen exterior. “I still think you have stardust in your veins, Daphne.”

Sunny’s compliment kept her mood bright for the next few days, the affection in his tone making her head spin. She was used to those sorts of compliments from Sides, who gave them out like smiles (she remembers one time when he turned her cheeks scarlet, his holoform’s hand rough on her thigh), but she wasn’t used to that from Sunstreaker. 

“Ambassador?” she was brought back to the present by Lennox, who was looking at her expectantly. This was her first official meeting with Prime, Lennox, and the various officials at the White House as the working ambassador. “You alright?”

“Oh, yes,” she blushes. They had improved the set up since she had been here last, a long conference table in place, high enough on the catwalk that Optimus could sit in as well in his rootform. “I’m ready whenever you are, Commander.”

In three days, Daphne’s team had put together all the briefs she had asked for, with Leilani organizing and labeling them all. Leilani had actually helped her pick out her outfit for this meeting, a light gray skirt paired with a white blouse with large, poofy sleeves. Her hair had been straightened and pinned behind her ears and she’s wearing her glasses as well, per Leilani’s recommendations. According to her assistant, Daphne was to both look young and commanding, both seductive and professional (the final comment given with a wink and an eyebrow raise).

She thought Leilani had done a great job. Daphne is contrasted by Lennox, wearing his official uniform, looking very much a soldier. And she looks like a civilian- which is what she wanted. She wants to make clear that while she may be an American citizen, she was working in the capacity as the Autobot ambassador. As long as she’s doing this job, she’s advocating for her boss, Optimus. (She makes a note to remind herself to work with Jazz to come up with an official uniform to wear for occasions like these.)

She smooths her skirt down as she sits down at the conference table after the President gets on the call, folding her hands in front of her. She straightens her files, painting a pleasant, but vigilant, expression on her face. 

“Good morning, everyone,” Bartlet greets, Leo shuffling in the background. “Hope that everyone’s well?”

“Yes, sir,” Lennox answers. “Everything’s fine in Jasper.”

“I find the weather of your planet to be very satisfactory,” Optimus adds pleasantly, the Prime standing next to her. 

Bartlet chuckles. “I’m glad to hear it, Prime. Now, what’s on the agenda today, Secretary Keller? General Morshower?”

Daphne tries to keep her face blank, her distaste hidden as the two men pop up on the screen. She doesn’t miss Morshower’s scowl in her direction. She doesn’t miss Keller’s fist clenching. It makes her feel powerful that they’re scared of her. What she can do. Not her powers. But her diplomacy. Her smarts. Her silver tongue. Her confidence. For once in her life (as a mutant), she’s intimidating because of something innate to her. 

“Ah, yes,” Keller clears his throat, exchanging a glance with Morshower sitting next to him. Fitzsimmons watches them carefully, frowning. “We still have concerns over the safety of our troops in Jasper and overseas, whether or not they will be able to thoroughly protect themselves from the threat of the Decepticons. Of course, we are not trying to insult your troops, Commander.”

“Of course,” Lennox echoes, uneasiness rolling off of him. 

Optimus vents, his angry aura pressing against her. “What are you asking, Secretary?”

“If you are willing to keep our troops safe, Prime,” he replies. The President looks bored with the conversation, Leo’s face tightening. 

“You’re asking for weapons,” Optimus states.

“Yes. We’re asking for weapons,” Morshower replies bluntly. 

She straightens, leaning forward in her chair. Optimus had discussed her role in these meetings. She was to be the mouthpiece of the Autobots in most of these meetings. When the President was the only one present, Optimus would be the one speaking. “Secretary, General, we’ve been over this several times. Under no circumstances will the Autobots supply any human army with Cybertronian weapons.”

Keller’s nose wrinkles. “Ah, Miss Winters, I did not see you there,” he says coldly. “But shouldn’t the safety of our troops be a concern of our allies? And if they have weapons that can further protect them, they should be given.”

Her smile is not kind. “It’s Ambassador Winters, Secretary Keller,” she replies, cocking her head. “And of course the safety of our allies is a paramount concern. But, that concern can not be eased with Autobot weapons. They are unsafe in human possession. And we think the weapons would be used against enemy states, not just the Cons, which is unacceptable to us. 

“Miss Winters-”

“John,” the President cuts in. “You’ll address her as Ambassador. Let her speak.”

Keller scowls, his nostrils flaring. “Yes,  _ sir. _ ”

“Thank you, sir. As I was saying, we cannot, and will never, permit Autobot weapons to be used by our human allies. But, as Commander Lennox and Prime will confirm, we are already underway here at home base to correct the issue of a lack of firepower.”

“And what is your solution,  _ Ambassador _ ?” Morshower asks. “Rely on the Autobots for protection?” he snorts. 

She smiles again. “No, General, we have a much better idea, which is already in motion.”

Bartlett sits forward, suddenly interested. “Is what you were talking with Josh about?”

“Yes, sir. We’re planning on founding an all-mutant unit here in Jasper. It’d be overseen by me, led by two brothers who have considerable mutant powers, whom I’m talking to next week. We’re recruiting soldiers who are mutants out of boot camp, including my dear friend Hope Summers, who’s in boot camp as well. She happens to be an Omega level mutant with considerable field experience,” she explains. Daphne and Jazz had been concocting this plan for months, after seeing her powers in action against her Guardians and the Cons back in December. 

“And you think this will solve the firepower problem?” Keller asks dubiously. 

“I believe it will. On base, we’ve tested mutants against Autobots-” (which may have technically been a lie since it was only one mutant- her.) “-and we’ve seen promising results. Additionally, the Autobots Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Bluestreak have been chosen to train with this unit and fight alongside them, just as each existing unit here at Jasper has an assigned Autobot partner.”

“Why three?” Fitzsimmons questions, speaking up for the first time in the meeting.

“We’re expecting this unit to be in the thick of battle.”  _ Sideswipe and Sunstreaker wouldn’t let me do this without being a part of it.  _ “Additional Autobot support is needed and expected.”

“Will the Ambassador be fighting alongside this unit? I thought she made it clear she has no tie to NEST,” Keller says to Optimus, ignoring her.

She bristles, but Optimus remains calm. “Ambassador Winters is free to choose to fight under my command. If she does choose to fight alongside her unit, she will do it under the capacity as an honorary Autobot,” he says evenly. 

“Commander, are you in favor of this?” Bartlett asks.

“Yes, sir. I think it’s a promising idea that will give us an edge over the Decepticons. They may be expecting Da- Ambassador Winters, may be preparing to fight against her powers, but cannot prepare against the extent of the range of mutants we are recruiting,” Lennox replies. 

“Well, I think it’s a great idea as well. Continue your preparations. We’ll treat this a trial run,” Bartlett instructs with a smile. 

“Thank you, sir. You won’t be disappointed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daphne was lucky Hope loved her so much. Every time her alarm went off on at four in the morning, her jackass drill sergeant yelling at them to get up, Hope silently cursed her best friend. She'd spent too many years dealing with Wolverine's bullshit to be ordered around by someone who wouldn't stand a chance in the Danger Room.
> 
> She hates boot camp. It's stupid. She already knows so much more than the barely-out-of-high-school kids around her. She's seen shit they couldn't dream off. Her unit looks at her with a mix of fear, fascination, and respect when walks up, their eyes going to her scar, the X tattooed on her bicep.
> 
> She's the only mutant here, which is weird. She and Daphne expected the army to be jumping at the opportunity to have mutants fighting. Maybe mutants don't want to fight for a country that treats them like a dangerous weapon. Hmm. Imagine that. 
> 
> God, Hope wishes she didn't love her best friend this much to suffer through this. But, here she is. She's excited about what comes after this. Fighting alongside other mutants. Fighting alongside aliens (!!!). And fighting side by side with her best friend. It's gonna be epic. 
> 
> (AN: Hello to all the new readers! Comment below your favorite part of the new chapter, and any kind of mutant you'd like to see in the story. I've already had a request for Deadpool, and I'll try my best to make it happen!)


	24. take my hand and off we stride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl makes some new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little shorter than usual, but this is helping to set up the status quo!

In addition to everything else Daphne had to do, she’s expected to keep up with her training. 

Ew. 

She understands why, though. She was kidnapped (this is the thirteenth time she’s counting and keeping track for Dr. Jones) and left vulnerable. She needs to be strong if she wants to help lead a unit into battle. 

Her Guardians had discussed her training options, without really consulting her at all. They confronted her last night and basically told her she was expected to meet Arcee at seven in the morning, or “else.”

Also ew. She hates getting up early. 

But, here she is, hair messily up in a half pony, waiting for Arcee in the training room. Sunny is visibly excited, his optics flickering towards her smugly. And because the attention is not him, Sides is bored.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Arcee breezes into the room, her rose gold detailing shining under the fluorescents. Arcee’s the shortest Autobot on base, coming in at eight and a half fight. But she was one of the best fighters Daphne had ever seen. Arcee had taken  _ Sunstreaker  _ and didn’t break a sweat at all (okay, robots can’t sweat, but you know what she means.) That’s why she was chosen to train Daphne, having been underestimated because of her size her whole life. “Are you ready?”

Daphne shifts uncomfortably. “Um, I guess. I’m not entirely sure what we’re doing, though.”

Arcee stares daggers at Sunny and Sides, crossing her arms and huffing. “Typical twins,” she grumbles. 

“Hey, don’t loop me in with my brother,” Sunny jokes. “We thought you’d explain it better, though. Daphne probably wouldn’t have listened to anything we said.”

The mutant in question laughs. “He’s probably right.”

“Well, then,” the femme rolls her eyes. “Anyways, you’re here because I’m gonna teach you how to fight, both Cons and humans. You’re going to be disadvantaged in a fight against any Cybetronian because of your size and we’re going to try and fix that.”

“I have my powers, though,” Daphne points out. “It’s not like Starscream is gonna take the time to try and put a collar around my neck.” Sides flinches slightly, a burst of clay protectiveness over the bond. 

Arcee chuckles. “Right you, Daphne. We’re going to work with your powers. You’ve gotten lucky with your encounters with Cons so far, but I’m going to show you how to work with both your powers and basic evasive techniques. The twins have taught you the basics, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And do you have your dagger?”

She hesitates, her hand going to the sheath on her thigh. She wasn’t incredibly sure how a piece of metal that was basically a toothpick compared to Sunny’s sword is going to do a lot of good. “Uh, yeah.”

“Excellent.” Arcee has pedes like Sides, rolling towards the far wall. “Sideswipe, come with me. We’re going to have Sunstreaker and Daphne fight to gauge a baseline.”

Daphne blanches, casting a nervous glance at her golden Guardian. “Uh, Arcee, are you sure? I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want him to hurt me.” She’s fought her Guardians before, but that was all for fun. 

“He won’t,” she replies confidently, brushing away Daphne’s concern. “Streaker, are you okay with this?”

“Yes,” Sunny says slowly, lilac unease prickling at her senses. Sides looks nervous and sends Arcee a glare when he thinks she’s not looking. “We’ll go slow.”

“Good. I’ll call out critiques while you’re going at it. You can begin whenever you’re ready.”

Sunny moves and her armor blazes to life around her as she jumps back. He holds up his servos, showing her he was only moving. “I was just moving, silly,” he chides. 

She rolls her eyes, gripping her dagger tightly. “Okay, grandpa. Ready whenever you are.”

His optics narrow and he lunges at her, his fingers brushing her armor. She squeaks, jumping backward, her magic arching. She throws up a shimmering shield and pushes him backward. (Maybe this is a good time to mention she thinks she has telekinesis. She thinks the Professor assumed it was merely her magic, but it feels different than her magic when she pushes Sunny back like this.)

Sunny grunts, his pedes sliding on the concrete. “Very good, Daphne,” Arcee calls. “You should always try and make room between you and a Con.”

She nods, her shield staying strong. She’s getting more powerful, she can feel it in the way her shield is holding, and she doesn’t feel a mental strain.

But suddenly Sunny blasts through it, her magic splintering. She scurries backward with a gasp, throwing a burst of magic that hits in the shoulder, causing him to stumble. “Aim for the legs next time, though. Center of gravity.”

“Got it,” Daphne replies. Sunny shakes off the hit, but instead of looking angry, she can feel the strong canary amusement and brick red pride radiating off of him. 

“Very good,” Sunny praises, practically purring. He lunges at her but she throws up a shield, which he bounces off of. It encases her like a bubble, almost like a second layer to her armor. Her magic sings as he presses against it, her shield lapping up his energy. He stumbles and she can feel his energy being leached. He tries to move away, but she’s got him trapped, her magic wrapping around one of his legs, like Arcee said.

Sides tasted like mint ice cream and campfire smoke. She remembers how it felt to take his energy in, use his own weapon against him. 

Sunny tastes like cinnamon and ozone with a hint of licorice. He lingers on her tongue, her magic flickering once, twice, her armor turning a slight green as the gold of Sunny meets the blue of Daphne. 

(She likes how they taste, how their energy merges into her own. It’s unlike anything she’s ever felt before.)

She takes enough until he’s lying there panting, slumped on the ground. “Primus, that sucks,” Sunny vents. 

“Do you give up?” she asks with a smirk, her magic still holding up. 

He rolls his optics. “Yes, Daphne, I give up.”

She smiles, letting her magic dissolve, Sunny’s golden energy flowing back at him. He’s still not angry, though. He’s still all canary amusement, carnation affection, and mulberry contentment. 

“I’m impressed,” Arcee comments. "You took what I said and went with it. Good thinking trapping him by the leg. But, don't let him get too close." Sides looks pleased, flashing her a thumbs up, his amusement doubled. 

“Yeah, I like watching you beat up my brother,” he says with a wink. 

“Oh, shut up,” Sunny groans. He rolls up with feline grace, his optics twinkling. “Last time, you needed my help to save you from our tiny charge. 

“Yeah, Sides, at least Sunny didn’t need any help,” Daphne teases, wiping her sweaty forehead. 

Arcee watches their interaction with a bemused smile. Daphne opens up her senses, Arcee’s aura a deep purple of  _ respect, amusement, slight awe.  _ “Good work, Daphne. We’ll do this every weekday morning. We’re going to work more on hand to hand- and using that blade of yours.”

Daphne winces, placing her dagger in the sheath on her thigh. “Okay,” she sighs reluctantly. She likes using her powers, like feeling that invisible muscle stretch. She doesn’t like fighting, despite the powers the fucked up creator gave her. 

“You’ll do great,” Arcee promises, rolling up to her side. The Autobot gently squeezes her shoulder, Arcee’s aura pressing against her own in greeting. “Don’t worry. I’m a much better teacher than your twins.”

“Hey!” they protest indignantly as Arcee waves goodbye, leaving them in the training room. The day is just beginning for most on base and she can hear the faint sound of music coming from the mess. 

“Nicely done, Daphne,” Sunny says sincerely, a gentle smile on his face. “Do that if you ever find yourself fighting a Con.”

“And keep your distance,” Sides adds. 

“And keep your distance and let us do the fighting,” Sunny echoes. 

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. There were no more bruises encircling her arms, nor any cuts. All there were the Allspark burns on her forearms, the starburst on her palm. There was no panic lurking in the back of her mind, no fear of losing her Guardians or her powers. All there was a lingering sense of pink power, adrenaline in her veins. 

“I’m going to fight, no matter what you say,” she replies. “And I’m going to keep training, keep pressing my powers to their limit.”  _ Because it keeps the panic at bay. Because it reminds me that I’m powerful and I will never be taken captive again. _

Her Guardians exchange a glance. “We just don’t want you to get hurt,” Sides says, gently ruffling her hair.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve already been hurt,” she points out, gesturing at the burns. “And, besides, I don’t want  _ you  _ guys to get hurt. I’m going to be the one protecting you,” she adds with a smirk. “And that’s a promise.”

~~~~

“Daphne!” Bluestreak greets cheerfully, his door wings twitching. It was the afternoon now and she was showered and caffeinated after the earlier training. Her black skirt clings to her thighs, her white blouse sticking to her with sweat. God, she wishes she could be wearing shorts and a tank top, but no, she was the Ambassador, so she had to look professional. Ugh. It was too hot to be professional. 

Sunstreaker lets out a long-suffering sigh and she snickers. “Hey, Big Blue,” she says with a smile. The gray and red ‘Bot squats down, carefully patting her on the head. She giggles and his optics go bright. “Where are those two guys you wanted me to talk to?”

“Oh, yes, they’re sitting in the rec room playing chess because they got bored because I accidentally told them the wrong time,” he replies enthusiastically. “They’re really cool and they’re really good at what they do.”

“Thanks, Bluestreak, I appreciate it,” she says.

“Of course!” he beams, standing up. 

Sideswipe snorts and she can feel his stare. “No hello for your favorite twins, Blue?”

“Oh!” he starts. “Hi, Sides, hi, uh, Sunstreaker,” he says, his eyes flickering away from Sunny nervously. Sides had told her about Sunny snapping at Bluestreaker when she had been kidnapped (Dr. Jones would be proud of her saying that). She felt really bad for him, but she understood where Sunny had come from. Daphne had made Sunny apologize as soon as she found out. “Isn’t it cool that your human and my humans are going to work together? And we’re going to work together? I’m so honored to fight by your side.”

Sunny crosses his arms and she mentally nudges him. “Thanks, Bluestreak,” he says grudgingly. But she knows what he’s actually thinking is that ‘ _ ugh humans are so gross and squishy why is Daphne making me work with them?’.  _ She sends a hint of canary amusement his way which he responds with bumblebee exasperation. 

Bluestreak walks into the rec room, the trio behind him. Daphne immediately notices the two men sitting in the corner. They were the ones who had flirted with her back in November after she fought Sunny and Sides. 

Their heads go up and she can feel a gentle press of another mind. She juts her chin up and pushes him out in a flash of blue- gently, of course. One flinches, the tips of his ears going red.  _ Gotcha.  _ The other elbows him, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Daphne!” Bluestreak calls excitedly as she makes her way across the room, her Guardians a silent presence behind her. “This is Raleigh and Yancy,” he gestures, the blushing one Yancy. “They’re from Alaska and they can speak French.”

She chuckles, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. ( _ God, did I just do the Debby Ryan? _ ) They were really hot. Yancy was a little taller than Raleigh, hair carefully groomed, a handsome, mature face. Raleigh reminded her of Bluestreak, all puppy-dog enthusiasm, hair ruffled but still looking cute, a boyish grin on his face. She feels a burst of thulian pink curiosity and crimson lust (she feels the press of green jealousy and pecan possessiveness over the bond). 

“Daphne Winters,” she introduces, holding out a hand. Raleigh’s eyes rake her up and down and she fights the grin as he shakes her hand. 

“Raleigh Beckett, the best Beckett brother there is. And that’s ol’ Yancy, he’s not worth much,” he jokes. 

Yancy rolls his eyes, ruffling up his younger brother’s hair. “Shove off, Raleigh. Don’t let my kid brother convince you of anything, he likes to tell stories.”

She laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replies. She can feel her Guardians scowling and she rolls her eyes. “And these are my Guardians, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Don’t mind them, they’re kinda grumpy.” She wishes they were in their holoforms so she could kick them and not hurt herself instead. 

They raise a hand in greeting, but her Guardians remain silent.  _ Children,  _ she scoffs. “So, Blue was telling us you had a proposition for us,” Raleigh wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

She blushes and Yancy elbows him. “I- well, not that kind of proposition,” she jokes. “I’m forming an all mutant unit. If it goes well, we’ll be the prototype for other units at other bases. Bluestreak suggested I talk to you guys.”

The brothers exchange a glance. “You want us?” Yancy asks. “We don’t have that much training though.”

Raleigh scoffs. “No official training. But we’re pretty strong. We’re Alphas. I’m class 6, he’s class five.”

She smiles. “And that’s what I’m looking for. Strength. We can train you here.” She lets her powers slip, a slight blue haze encircling her head. Their auras are strong, bright, each a similar shade of dark grey. She can feel the slight difference in power, in the way Yancy’s aura is brighter than Raleigh’s. 

“What are you?” Yancy asks curiously. 

“She’s a human,” Sunny snaps and Yancy blinks, stepping back. 

“Oh, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay, Yancy,” she replies, sending Sunny a glare. “Sunny’s just a bit overprotective.” Sides snorts, Bluestreak looking on nervously. “I’m Omega, class eight, but I might be up to class seven.”

Raleigh whistles appreciatively, Yancy looking at her in a new light. She knows she doesn’t look like much. A short, on the thicker side, mixed kid with bright blue hair wearing a skirt and a blouse. Not the most intimidating. “What can you do?” Raleigh asks. 

She smiles, letting her magic drift off of her skin. “I can manipulate electro-magnetic energy, including the energy surrounding the human body. I ‘borrow’ other energy to create my own.”

“Don’t let her though, it hurts,” Sides chimes in. 

“Good to know,” Yancy laughs. 

“And what can you do?”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask that,” Yancy says with a smile. “I have limited telepathy as you, well,  _ know,”  _ he blushes when he says that and she grins. “I can form a shield that looks like bubbles or honeycombs. I’m working on turning my shields into a weapon.”

She nods, turning her attention to Raleigh. He grins, leaning against the wall. “I can pull things apart.”

“Like telekinesis?” she raises an eyebrow. 

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “I can only pull things apart. Can’t hold them or push things back together. Wanna see?” She nods. He sets his eyes on one of the tables in the rec room. He moves as if he’s clawing through the air, violently bringing his hands down. The table explodes, but then, a shield of yellow appears in front of her, shielding her from the debris. 

Yancy grins at her and Raleigh looks pleased with himself. “Damn,” she says lowly. “That was neat.”

Raleigh chuckles. “Just neat? You must have some high expectations.”

“She does,” Sides jumps in again, sitting down next to them. Sunny remains standing, a grumpy expression on his face. “You should see her in action.”

“Come on then, princess, give us a show,” Raleigh teases. “Show us what you got.”

She rolls her eyes, but does what he asks. She lets her armor appear slowly instead of all at once, letting it start at her feet, the armor appearing with an audible clink. She lets her magic gather in her hair, like stars in the night sky. She knows her eyes are glowing brighter. 

It’s not a good demonstration of what she can do. What she can do is much. But she can’t do it in the rec room, she doesn’t want to destroy everything that was just built. 

But, she goes a step further, stealing a bit of Raleigh’s energy, her magic glowing darker. Raleigh gasps, his eyes widening. “Shit, you’re right, this does hurt,” he breathes, sinking into a chair. 

She laughs, allowing her magic to dissipate like smoke. “You wanted a show, I gave you one,” she responds with a smirk. 

“Yeah, I remember you fighting those two,” Yancy replies, gesturing to her Guardians. “Kinda scared for you, not gonna lie.”

“You should have been scared for them,” she says. “I can steal their energy just as I stole your brother’s.”

“Cool,” they say together. They exchange a glance. 

“We’re in,” Yancy says. 

“Yeah, we wanna be a part of this unit. Also, I want you to kick my ass again, however you want,” Raleigh adds with a wink. 

“God, knock it off, Rals,” Yancy says with a sigh. 

Green jealousy surges through the bond. Daphne doesn’t know why though. They’re her Guardians, she’s their charge. That’s it.

(Daphne knows that’s not it. She sees the way they look at her. She knows the way she looks at them. She knows every scratch on their root forms, knows every freckle on Sunny’s holoform, knows every piece of Sides’ silver hair. She knows her heart cries out for them when they’re not in the room. She knows that they’re always on her mind and always in her mind. She knows that the bond is the brightest thing in her life. She knows she’s the only one Sunstreaker allows to call him Sunny. She knows she’s the only one who can hold Sideswipe’s attention for more than five minutes. She knows they’d fight until the ends of the Earth for her. She knows they know she’d fight anyone and anything for them. She knows the way her magic shivers and purrs when they touch her. She knows the way her heart soars when they compliment her. She knows that they know her inside out. She knows she completes them and they complete her. )

(Daphne knows all of this, yet, knows none of this.)

(She doesn't want to know any of this.)

(She doesn't know that her Guardians know all of this and want to know it.)

“I don’t mind,” she says with a grin, ignoring the bond. “Welcome on board.”

“We’re expecting anymore or is it just us, Captain?” Raleigh teases. 

She rolls her eyes. “Of course there’s more. We’re getting a whole bunch of new recruits fresh out of boot camp in a few weeks. And then our other heavy-hitter Omega will be here in a month and a half.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((AN: Did y'all catch the nerdy reference in this chapter? Also, Raleigh is definitely a himbo. No, I will not take criticism.))
> 
> Raleigh spreads out on his bed with a sigh. God, she was gorgeous. Who had he been before Ms. Daphne Winters walked into his life? He was a much better man now that she was in it. Where could he start? Her amazing powers that made him feel like he had the flu? Hot. The combo of her blue hair and professional attire? Hot. Her figure?? Hot.
> 
> "Dude, stop thinking so loud," Yancy groans from the bunk bed above him. "Can't fall asleep."
> 
> "Come on, Yance, wasn't she so so cool?" Raleigh croons, punching the mattress. 
> 
> "Cool? Yes. Five years younger than me and our superior officer? Also yes."
> 
> He rolls his eyes. Yancy had a respect for all the military shit. Raleigh did not. His brother was the one who wanted to enlist, so Raleigh, reluctantly, followed him. There's nothing for them in Anchorage, anyway. But, now they were here with robots, and Yancy was worried about flirting with a totally powerful and hot woman? "Live a little, Yancy man," he teases. "We live in a different world, those kinds of rules don't apply." 
> 
> "Sure, kid." He can practically hear his brother rolling his eyes. Oh, well. More day dreams for him.


	25. sing me to sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl survives on her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! You get an early chapter, woohoo!
> 
> Ahhh! This is finally past 100k!! I never thought I'd get this far but look at us. Look at us, who would have thought? Thank you to everyone who comments. It means a lot! It reminds me that I'm not just writing this into the void. Any comment counts- even the ones who say something as simple as good job! So, please continue to comment and enjoy this chapter <3

Nightmares grip Daphne like a vice. 

They all start the same. _She’s back in Mission City, holding the Allspark. She’s glowing as bright as a star, tendrils of light wrapping up her arms. She is infinite. She is a shining sun on the brink of a supernova. She is fire and light incarnate. She is everything and anything._

_But, something wraps itself around her neck, cold and iron and old, and it is crushing her windpipe. And is sucking the life out of her, the Allspark grows dulls, her skin becomes cracked and frayed, and she is falling apart at the seams._

_And then she’s back in that room, that God-forsaken room, and that man, that man (she still can’t remember his name, or the woman’s. Their names are imprints written into the foggy glass, they appear for a flash, disappear in a second) is pulling her apart and sewing her together like Frankenstein._

_He pulls out her still-beating heart. It’s not red. It’s blue. It’s not skin. It’s rock, like the Allspark. It’s not smooth. It has sigils carved into it._

_He has her heart but she is still breathing, still living, and then he’s sewing her together, and it hurts so much, oh, God, she wishes she could just fall apart._

_And she’s alone, alone, alone, there’s no one here for her, no one will ever be there, oh, please, please, please-_

“Daphne!” Sunstreaker whispers and she awakens with a gasp, her fists clenching the sheets. Her skin is sweaty, her heart beating a million miles a minute. He’s standing there in his holoform, his eyes glowing in the darkness. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she misses their holoforms. She’s in awe of their rootforms, but she misses the skin on skin contact. ( _Orchid longing.)_ “You’re okay.”

Daphne nods, letting out a shaky breath. She hasn’t had a bad nightmare in a few weeks, since she’s seen Dr. Jones. Talking about it helps. She knows why, though. Her Guardians are leaving on a mission for a few days. 

“I-I’m fine,” she gets out, rubbing at her raw throat. “It was just bad.”

“Yeah,” Sunny says softly. He knows. He can feel what she feels, the syrup terror, fossil gray hopelessness, hickory loneliness. “Do you want-”

“Yes,” she whispers. They don’t need words anymore. She can feel his deep purple understanding. She scoots over, her hands shaking where they grip the sheets. He gently pries open her hands and smooths the sheets. 

She immediately relaxes into his warmth as he lays down next to her, laying her head down on his chest, her hand clutching his shirt. Daphne smiles when Persephone meows, jumping up on the bed next to them, Sunny cursing softly. “Hey, don’t diss my cat,” she says sleepily, Persephone settling onto her stomach. 

Sunny snorts. “As you humans say- whatever,” he murmurs, twirling a piece of hair around his fingers. They lay there in silence for a while, Daphne practically on top of Sunstreaker, listening to the hum of his spark. It’s uniquely him, intertwined with notes of gold and red and clay. She wonders if her heartbeat is the same to him. She wonders if they can pick out her heartbeat from a crowd. 

She’s almost asleep, lulled by the sensation of Sunny’s fingers in her hair, his spark under her head, Persephone’s purring comfort, when the door opens, letting in a sliver of light. She tenses, her hand tightening its hold on Sunny’s shirt. “Shh, it’s just Sides,” he whispers. 

“Didn’t know we were having a sleepover,” Sides jokes, quietly walking in. She doesn’t have enough energy to retort but hums in response. Her bed creaks as Sides lays down, Sunny clutching her to him to make room. Persephone meows indignantly and Sides shudders. “I didn’t know this party of three was actually a party of four.”

“Persephone and I are a package deal,” she mumbles and they both snort. Her cat moves to sit at her feet, warming up her frozen toes. Her bed is small but somehow they all fit. It creaks as Sides settles in, Sunny releasing her so she’s sandwiched between them. If she was wide awake, not shaking and drained from a nightmare that always turns into a panic attack, she’d be blushing. But, she’s on the verge of sleep, still shaking, her body like a limp noodle, so she doesn’t blush, only takes comfort in both of her Guardians laying next to her. 

Sides starts to hum, wrapping an arm around her waist, his fingers tapping a melody against her ribs. Sunny shifts so that they’re all laying on their sides (oh, a pun she would make if she was awake), her head now tucked into his shoulder, his arm trapping hers under his. Sunny resumes the stroking of her hair and Sides buries his head in her neck. 

All she feels is the warmth of their bodies and orchid longing in the back of her throat. Don’t mistake her, there is nothing sexual about this, only comfort being offered and comfort being received, but she imagines what it would be like to be held like this and be theirs. Not just Sunny’s or Sides’- theirs. 

(She pretends not to feel this and they pretend not to notice. They don’t pretend that their side of the bond isn’t also colored with orchid longing, amethyst yearning, carnation affection, magenta want, and lollipop love.)

With her eyes closed, Daphne can see the bond. Can see the gold and silver wrapped around her fingers, the way it fades into blue at the end. She mentally tugs on it, getting a rainbow of colors in return, feels Sides’ arm tightening around her waist, Sunny caressing her cheek. 

She dips into unconsciousness, her lips pressed against Sunny’s neck, her hand intertwined with Sides’. And she falls asleep, the purple panic driven away. 

(She loves them. Oh, God, she loves them and she doesn’t know what to do with it.)

~~~

Dr. Jones smiles at her as she sits down across from him. “Ah, Miss Daphne, how is my favorite patient?”

Daphne smiles. “I’m pretty sure I’m your only patient, so I don’t see how I can be your favorite.”

He rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee. “Avoiding the question, I see,” he notes. 

She sighs. “I can’t get anything past you, can I, Doc?” she says dryly, shifting in her seat. 

“No, my powers of observation surpasses any attempt of annoyance.”

Daphne sighs again. Dammit. He’s right. “I’m okay. I just had another nightmare last night.”

“Oh?” he frowns, raising an eyebrow. “I thought during our last session you said you haven’t had one in two, three weeks if it wasn’t for the one last night. Same scenario?”

“Yeah. It was bad. I was just, just so alone and so scared,” she says quietly, playing with the necklace Sides’ gave her. 

Dr. Jones’ eyes go to the necklace, the shimmering blue star that seems to pulse against her skin. “Ah,” he says, his mouth quirking into a smile. “I see. You’re Guardians left today, didn’t they?”

She shifts. Dammit. He got her. “Yeah, how did you know? You’re not a telepath, right?” she asks, as if the truth wasn’t written across her face in black sharpie. 

“I do live on base, Daphne,” he jokes. “But, I know you after our sessions together. You have nightmares when something unsettlingly has occurred in your life. For example, your last nightmare was after our first session and the night when you met with the President and his generals. And now, your first nightmare since is because the two men- well, _mechs_ you have been tied to by an act of some divine being, have left, and you are afraid they will not come back and will leave you alone.”

Daphne remains silent and looks down at her hands. He knows her, knows her too well. She takes a deep breath. She tries to drown out the purple panic and violent anxiety that creep up with lavender trust. _They are fine and you are fine,_ she tells herself. But she still reaches out to the bond that has been silent since the morning, pulling the silver and gold strings. She gets a delayed response, a faint reply of amber reassurance and tangerine comfort and she sighs in smokey relief. 

Dr. Jones is still looking at her. She’s sure he’s a telepath. “I assume that I’m right by your silence,” he says dryly. 

“You’re right,” she replies. “But I’m fine,” she adds, both a statement and a reassurance to herself. “Yeah, I’m worried about them, but I trust them. I know they’re great fighters and I don’t need to worry. And I can survive a few days without them. I don’t need them.”

He nods slowly. “You are right that you don’t need them. But, Daphne, you of all people know that you are literally tied to them with some sort of telepathic bond that astounds me.” It astounds her too, if she’s being honest. She’s not entirely sure how the bond works, just that it works. Yancy Beckett, who also happened to have mild telepathy, couldn’t read them. _Sorry, Daph,_ he told her. _Not getting a thing. You must just be special._ She doesn’t think the Professor, Jean, Wanda, _or_ Hope could get anything from them. So it’s just her. Maybe she’ll ask Optimus later. “It’s alright to feel worried.”

“Thanks, Dr. Jones. I know it’s okay to be worried. But I also want to prove to myself that I don’t need them,” she says. 

“I’m going to check that attitude. Of course, you don’t need them. But, as we’ve established and I’ve somewhat reluctantly agreed with, you are tied to them emotionally, and you need some sort of emotional tie. Your statement seems a bit self-deceptive as if trying to convince yourself you’ll be fine when in actuality, you’re an anxious mess. Replace ‘I don’t need them,’ with ‘I miss my friends/emotional teddy bears dearly, but will go about my daily life.”

“Yeah,” she says slowly. He always gets her. Is this what therapy is like? “Dammit, you’re right again, Doc.”

He chuckles good-naturedly. “Thank you, it is my job,” he points out with a smile. “How long will they be gone?”

“Three or four days. Not long.” _Actually, it’s waaaaay too long and I’m trying to convince both you and I will be fine. But. obviously, it’s not working._

“Not too long,” he agrees. “I want you to go easy on yourself. This is going to obviously be hard. Don’t get angry if you have a nightmare, if you feel anxious or unsafe. They’ve been by your side since your kidnapping, a month, almost a month and a half. Feel free to call me, but I want you to hang out with friends on base, anyone you haven’t had a lot of time to get to know.”

~~~~

So Daphne did just that. The next morning, after a rather sleepless night filled with cuddles from Persephone and a phone call with Bryce, early morning training with Arcee who unfortunately kicked her but, and some (actually it was a lot and her wonderful assistant Leilani helped her through it) paperwork, she meets up with the Beckett brothers in the mess. 

She’s freshly showered, her half dry hair curling around her shoulders. She needs to get her hair cut, even though Leilani tells her she looks pretty with her hair longer. She’s wearing a black jumpsuit today and the fabric was already sticking to her with sweat. Her dagger, which her Guardians had named for some reason and the name escapes her, stays strapped to her thigh, per Arcee’s orders. Daphne had been getting better with the dagger but didn’t understand why it needed to stay on her at all times.

“Hey there, Daphne,” Raleigh greets, patting the seat next to him. As usual, his blonde hair is artfully ruffled, the devil-may-care smile plastered on his face. “Rough morning?”

She scoffs, ignoring his offer and sitting next to the older Beckett, to Yancy’s delight. “Didn’t sleep well and Arcee kicked my ass in training.”

Yancy gives her a sympathetic smile, his hair gelled down. “Yeah, she’s definitely a hard ass. We had training with Ironhide and Lennox today. They go _hard,_ ” he emphasizes, sipping his coffee. 

“My sympathies,” she smiles. “Who else do you train with?”

“Usually Bluestreak,” Raleigh answers, stretching in his seat, a flash of pale, toned skin revealed that catches her eyes. “He trains all the sharpshooters. Trained with Bulkhead a couple of times, sometimes he helps out Ironhide. Hot Rod too, but he’s kinda a dick.”

She grimaces, taking a bite of her sandwich. “Yeah, not the nicest guy. Sunny actually threatened to tear him apart if he wasn’t nicer to me.”

Yancy snorts. “Sounds like Streaker. He’s kinda a dick, too. No offense though.”

“Yeah, super intense. Almost squished someone in training and ol ‘Hide hasn’t asked him back yet. Sides seems super cool, though,” Raleigh adds. 

“Oh, Sunny,” she rolls his eyes. “He _is_ a dick, but he’s super nice, once you get past all the layers of aggression and ego. God, I swear, if ‘Bots could have testosterone, he’d have a shit ton.”

“If it wasn’t for the towering height and metal skin, I could swear they’re like us,” Yancy laughs. “What did you think when you first found out about them? Rals and I freaked out, but in like a good way.”

“I was stoked,” Raleigh confirms, sending her a wink. 

She laughs. “Didn’t have a lot of time to process. I met everyone in Mission City when shit was going down, so I just volunteered.” They send her a dubious look. “Look, I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit. A genocidal robot just seemed to be the icing on the cake.”

Yancy raises an eyebrow. “I’m calling bullshit, kid. And they just let you? You’re, what, eighteen, nineteen?”

“Twenty,” Daphne corrects. “And, yeah, they did. Didn’t need much convincing after they saw I was an Omega. They need help, after all.”

A heavy silence falls over the trio and Yancy squeezes her shoulder, the older man giving her a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I, well, kinda, know what you mean. Rals and I’s signing bonus went up when they found out about our powers.”

“It’s all such bullshit,” Raleigh says, running a hand through his hair. “I hate that we’re only seen as weapons to be used. We’re human, after all. It’s not fucking fair.” Yancy casts a nervous look around them. She understands. 

“Yeah, it’s not fair,” she quietly agrees. “Which is why it took me a while to be okay with the idea of having an all mutant unit.”

“What changed your mind?” Raleigh asks. “Not gonna lie, when Blue first told us about the unit, seemed a little sus.”

She laughs. “Yeah, it was sus, even though it was my idea. But what changed my mind is that it’s going to be under _my_ command, not Lennox’s. Look, Lennox is a nice guy and all, but he still works for _them,_ you know?”

Something clicks for Yancy and she can feel his projected understanding. “ _Oh._ Oh, shit. You’re not under military jurisdiction, are you?”

“Nope,” she smiles, popping the ‘p’. “As long as I’m on base, or acting as the Autobot ambassador, the military nor the government can touch me.”

“Goddamn,” Yancy whistles. “Shit, you got a good deal. That’s why you don’t train with us, right?” She nods. “Shit,” he repeats. “It makes a lot of sense.”

Raleigh looks confused, watching them as if they were an interesting tennis match. “Wait, hold up, I’m confused. I thought you were _our_ ambassador. Like, I thought the President appointed you.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m the Autobot’s ambassador to humanity. I represent _them,_ not the U.S., or any other country for that matter.”

They both lean back into their seats, Yancy looking at her in respect, Raleigh just looking at her, impressed and longing. “So, when we’re with your unit, we’re under Autobot rules?” Yancy guesses. 

“Kinda. You still have to answer to Lennox, above all, because he’s the Commander. But, in Unit X, you listen to me, Prime, and the three Autobots with us.” She hesitates, finishing off her sandwich. “I just, just wanted to make sure mutants on base weren’t being used, you know? Or face any prejudice? So, any mutants on base immediately come to our unit.”

“I’m impressed, Winters,” Raleigh remarks, a flirtatious smile on his face. “Didn’t know you were so protective. Or ambitious.”

“Well, I am,” she answers with a raise of her eyebrow. “Get used to taking orders from me.”

His face lights up. “Any time, just say the word, Daph.” His eyes trail over her, landing on her necklace, just like Dr. Jones (well, the good doctor was most certainly _not_ checking her out) had done the day before. Daphne had been terrified she had lost the necklace when she’d been kidnapped but, somehow, Sides had found it when they had found her. 

Yancy groans as her cheeks light up. “Easy, Rals. She’s our superior, remember?” he says, reaching over the table and flicking his younger brother in the chest. “Anyways, who do you train with if you don’t train with the rest of us plebeians?” he teases. 

“Arcee and my Guardians,” she smiles. “I don’t really train with Jazz, but he teaches me things about Cybetronian culture and the Autobot mission so I know what to bring to meetings. But, once the rest of the preselected members of the unit arrive, I’ll mostly be training with you all.”

“When will they be coming?” Raleigh asks excitedly, leaning forward in his seat. 

“Um…” she trails off, checking her mental calendar. “About two weeks?”

“Any other Omegas?” Yancy asks. He finishes off his coffee and she offers her untouched cup, which he accepts with a smile. 

“Not in the initial group. My best friend, Hope, gets out of boot camp in like a month, and then she’ll be joining the unit. She’s Omega,” she answers. 

“Powers?”

“Mimicry,” she grins. “She can basically use my power like her own. Not as good as me, of course.”

Raleigh laughs. “I don’t think anyone could be better than you,” he says. “Still need to see your powers in action.”

“Sure,” she replies sarcastically. “And I’ll make sure to kick your ass.”

“Gladly,” he winks.

“Jesus, kid, tone it down,” Yancy groans. “Any other cool powers coming in?”

“We got someone close to Omega, has like a snake avatar, or something like that,” she says eagerly. She’s quite pleased with the people she chose. She sat down with Jazz, who had helped her with all of it, and Hope on the phone, going through every single mutant who was set to graduate boot camp or currently serving, both in the United States and abroad in the various countries who signed the NEST treaty, in the next month or two. She’s never led a team before, she’s much more of a diplomat. Hope is the real leader and Daphne just hopes she can lead the team without her best friend at her side for a month. “We also got this pair of twins from Pakistan who can combine their separate powers of invisibility and sound manipulation together.”

“Sounds like a good team so far,” Yancy says. “I think you’ll be a great leader.”

She grimaces. “God, I hope so.”

~~~~

The next night, she’s seated in Ratchet’s med bay. The crotchety Autobot doctor is looking over her weekly scans. Daphne’s not entirely sure why she needs to have weekly scans, but Ratchet insists on it, so she does it. She doesn’t want to piss him off. She’s seen the craters left in her Guardians heads when they, well, mostly Sideswipe while Sunstreaker was watching on in amusement, pranked Ratchet. She swore she saw steam coming off of Ratchet’s helm.

“Hey, Ratchet?” she asks, suddenly remembering that question she wanted to ask Optimus. She was going to see the Bot in charge himself later, but she wanted to ask the question before she forgot it. 

“Yes, dear one?” he answers absently, thumbing through her scans, making notes to himself. 

“I was wondering,” she begins. “You know how I have the bond with the twins?”

Ratchet snorts, quirking a faceplate. “Do I know the bond? Of course, I do,” he scoffs.

“Well, I was talking with Dr. Jones, my therapist? And he mentioned he doesn’t really understand what the bond is and I realized I don’t really know either. Because it can’t be a telepathic bond, right? Cause none of the other telepaths can get anything from you guys. And I’m the only one who can. Like, I think I can get a slight read off of you guys, but I think that’s because of your EMFs, and that doesn’t explain the bond.” Sometimes Daphne forgets how naturally curious she is. That’s why she did so well in school. Things she doesn’t understand makes her frustrated. 

Ratchet pauses.

(She doesn’t know this, but internally, Ratchet is melting down. He didn’t realize she’d find this weird, didn’t realize that she knew over telepaths, didn’t realize he had no answer to give her. He honestly doesn’t even have a fragging clue over _how_ they have a bond and has just written it off as the power of the Allspark. She can’t understand the power she has. That in her frail human body, she has dominion over the remaining power of the Allspark. That the burns on her forearms signify much more than coming into contact with an alien artifact. She can’t find out. Those are his orders. And she can’t find out. That is what he believes after these months of deceptions, after hearing her nightmares over her body being controlled by something, of her powers being stitched into something she can’t control. It wasn’t right to lie to her in the first place, to allow a man, her mentor, one she trusted so dearly to warp her brain to deny her something she was bestowed by Primus and the Allspark. This, he knows. Daphne is their dear one, their _dhany yoddha,_ their blessed warrior. But, he’s seen her slow recovery from being brutally tortured by her own race. To let her know that those she’s learned to trust, her Guardians, have lied to her? No, this is not the time to let her know. They will let her know when she is older, no longer a Youngling that must be protected, when the Allspark energies have finally bonded fully with her own powers, when she has finished evolving, when she is no longer in danger from the Decepticons. For if she knows, she is in immediate danger.)

(This happens in five seconds and Daphne, poor Daphne, has no idea what happens in those five seconds.)

“Ah, yes,” he replies, straightening up. She’s swinging her legs over a table meant for an Autobot. “The bond. I do think it has to do with your electromagnetic abilities. I think it’s both your EMF, excuse me, _aura,_ ” he corrects when he sees her frown. “Reaching out to the twins’ EMFs. I think it’s just a heightened version of what you do with us regular Autobots.”

“Oh,” she slumps. She’s somewhat disappointed in his answers. She doesn’t know why, though. Maybe she was hoping for some cosmically weird coincidence that has bonded her to her Guardians. But why would she even want that? 

(S _he knows. Practically everyone knows. Really, girl, how long are you going to make us wait? Why are you making yourself wait, the twins wait? It’s far too much yearning._ )

Ratchet scoffs. “Sorry, dear one, you cannot always be special.”

She laughs as her cheeks go crimson. “Jesus, Ratchet, that was mean, even coming from you.”

The Autobot in question rolls his optics, offering her an outstretched palm. “Come, the others are waiting for you. They’re quite excited to have you for an evening.”

She’s been taking Dr. Jones’ recommendations. Hanging out with Yancy and Raleigh yesterday was nice, even if the latter kept hitting on her every other minute. He was rather respectful about it, though, which she appreciated. But, anyway, she was following the good doctor’s recommendations and hanging out with her friends on base. Yesterday had been spent catching up with her human friends, Lennox and Epps on base, and Sam, Mikaela, and Bryce and the crew over FaceTime. 

“I’m excited to hang out with all of them,” she says, carefully sitting down on his hand. He handles her much more gently than Sideswipe and Bluestreak, but with none of the tenderness of Sunstreaker. She smiles. She should tell Sunny that when he gets back. 

They exit the med bay, heading left towards the Autobot’s rec room. They pass her room, the twins’ room, and the younger Bot’s rooms too. Most of the Autobot leadership are in two rooms but Optimus gets his own room. 

When they enter, everyone is lounging on these gigantic metal crates NEST somehow found for them to sit on. “Daphne,” Optimus greets warmly, getting up to greet her. The only ones missing are Arcee and Hot Rod who are on patrol. She shudders. She’s glad Hot Rod isn’t here. The egotistical Bot still hasn’t warmed up to her, but has stopped with the threats and insults. “It is good to see you, dear one.”

She giggles as Ratchet carefully hands her over to Optimus. “Op, you saw me yesterday at that meeting.”

(Ratchet exchanges a glance with Optimus and that is all it takes for the Prime to know. He does not like deceiving her. None of the Autobot leadership nor her own Guardians like to. But heavy is the crown and the decisions he had to make. It was the choice he made, the choice to keep her safe. Keep her safe from herself, from their enemies that are still out there. Optimus has learned of another mutant, one named Jean Grey, whom power was denied to and she nearly killed her own _beshami._ It makes him uneasy to learn that. But, they are not denying their dear Daphne power. At least, that is what he is telling himself. She is gaining power, power he and Ratchet hypothesize are a mixture of her own magic and the energies of the Allspark. What they are denying her is much worse. They are denying her knowledge. And he prays to Primus nightly that he made the right decision.)

(What he doesn’t know is that sometimes Daphne feels like Jean Grey, like a star at the brink of a supernova. She felt the infinite power when she held the Allspark. She’s felt sometimes similar when she touched spark energy and the bond blazed into life, when she tore that Con apart. Fire and life incarnate. She is close, but not there. It may be a matter of time.)

He chuckles, his whole body vibrating. “Ah, yes, of course. I meant a personal setting, not a business one.”

“Ah’ve missed yah too, lil Daphne. Ah feel like those twins and Arcee hog all of yah time,” Jazz remarks, lounging next to Prowl, who is as stoic as always. 

“Hey! I see her a lot too,” Bluestreak pouts, his door wings twitching. Bulkhead next to him laughs, waving merrily at her. She hasn’t talked much to the big Bot, but he’s friendly and jovial. “And hi Daphne! I saw Rals and Yance yesterday and they said they hung out with you yesterday which is awesome because I’m glad all my human friends are friends now. Did you have fun too?”

“Yeah, I did, Big Blue, thanks for asking,” she smiles. Optimus carefully sets her down on a table, settling into a chair next to her. Ratchet slumps into a chair next to Ironhide, who hands him a cube of Energon. “They say you’re a hardass in training, Hide,” she teases. 

He scoffs. “I need to whip these softies into shape,” he remarks gruffly. “When am I gonna see you in training, girl?”

She laughs, avoiding eye contact. She does not, under any circumstances, want to be trained by Ironhide. If Sunstreaker complains he’s too tough and Sideswipe can’t crack a joke about it, she doesn’t want to be anywhere near it. “Um, well, uh,” she stumbles. 

“She is being trained by Arcee, friend,” Optimus provides, sending her a conspiratorial wink. 

She opens up her senses, lets their EM fields roll over her, letting her magic freely. In one of their lessons, Jazz told her how important EMFs are to their communication. They’re giant metal beings, so their body language is limited. Therefore, EMFs do what body language couldn’t, and go far beyond it. Jazz told her it’s considered rude to not open up in a private and relaxed setting. She doesn’t want to appear rude, so she does just that. 

It’s very freeing to Daphne to not have to keep such a tight lease on her powers, open up her senses, let her magic flow over her easily. Among humans, even mutants, it’s sometimes overwhelming to feel everyone and everything just at once, and sometimes people are uncomfortable with her powers. But, this is what Cybertronians are supposed to do, their EMFs never overwhelming, the Autobots never judgemental. 

Optimus’ royal blue aura presses against her own comfortingly, communicating his amusement and his pleasure having her here. Ironhide’s tired, gray aura latches onto the lingering fear. 

“I knew it!” he crows. “You’re afraid you can’t handle one of my training sessions.”

“ _I_ can’t handle his training sessions,” Bulkhead mutters glumly, his aura a dark green. 

She laughs. “Oh, I think I can handle it. I just don’t _want_ to,” she jokes. Her own aura makes her skin glow, clinging to her hair and her clothes, like she’s bathed in starlight. It’s so relaxing, her shoulders slumping. 

“I’ll get you in there somehow, I promise,” Ironhide grumbles. “Is Arcee training you well, at least?”

“Yes, sir,” she teases, amusement making her glow. 

“And are you wearing Lightbringer?”

Ah, that was her dagger’s name. Lightbringer. It was an interesting name, not one she would have chosen herself. “Yes, sir,” she repeats, patting the holster under her shorts. “It’s kinda weird, but I’m getting used to it.” 

“It might just save yah one day, lil lady,” Jazz points out. “Can’t count de numbah ah times my own blade saved me when Ah couldn’t get to my blastah or Ah was in close combat. Keep it close to yah.”

“I agree,” Optimus adds gravely, his aura pulsing with concerns. She does not see the colors she sees when she feels emotions or feels her Guardians’. Maybe it's because she’s merely reading the other Autobots when she’s feeling her Guardians’ emotions. “You must keep that dagger on you at all times. You understand what it is like when you can no longer use your number one weapon.”

“I’m sure the Cons don’t have any X on them,” Ratchet scoffs. “Focus on your powers. That’s my advice. You’re leading a mutant unit, for Primus’ sake.”

“I agree with Ratchet,” Prowl says suddenly. The Autobot second in command has never really talked to her before. “Focus on using your… powers, but continue practice with your dagger.” He unconsciously rests a servo on his arm, where she guesses his own blade is. 

“Does your blade have a name?” she asks curiously. “Sunny told me all Cybertronian blades have names.”

Prowl blinks in surprise. “I- well, yes. Goldryn, named after my Carrier.”

“Azriel and Dawnsplitter,” Jazz says fondly. 

“Sparkripper,” Ironhide grins and she smiles. 

“Ooo, mine are called Quickspeak and Brightcall! Prowl was my mentor and named them and he helped me forge them. I really like yours though and its name is super cool and it fits you!” Bluestreak tells her excitedly. 

“I don’t have a sword. Ratchet doesn’t either,” Bulkhead adds shyly. 

“One of my blades is named Windcarver,” Optimus offers. “And I’m sure Sunstreaker and Sideswipe will tell you the names of their own blades, Shadowsinger and Truthteller, when they return tomorrow morning.”

She lights up in amaranth happiness. “Really?” she squeals.

Optimus smiles, his EMF twinkling with tenderness and amusement. “Yes, dear one. Sideswipe wishes to tell you that he found you another necklace.”

Daphne laughs. “Tell him thanks. And that I miss them.” _A lot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((AN: I have a playlist for this story, and specifically Daphne, but I was hoping you all would share some songs you think would fit for the story, or any songs that make you think of Daphne, Sides, or Sunny! Comment below!))
> 
> Sunstreaker was happy to be heading back to base. They hadn't found much on their mission, only scorched earth, and some broken trees. It was nice to stretch his tires, though, and actually do something. Not that watching over Daphne wasn't 'something,' it was just, well, sometimes he felt cooped up and anxious being stuck on base, not doing anything. He knew his brother felt the same, and he suspected his charge felt similar. 
> 
> Daphne was another reason he was happy to be heading back. He missed her. And he was worried about her. His Guardian protocols were satisfied knowing she was being looked after by the rest of the Autobots, but his spark was anxious. 
> 
> He ex-vented, increasing his speed, and passing a slow-moving car. Sideswipe was a few miles ahead, racing another car.
> 
> He missed Daphne, so he turned on the playlist of songs of hers he liked. He would never admit to anyone but his charge that he actually liked human music.
> 
> So, he drove, the night turning into the morning, listening to a human band called The Smiths, thinking of his charge.


	26. i know my luck too well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl meets a bully

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this short? Yes. But am I back? Also yes!! The LSAT is over and now I can breathe again. Phew. Well, back to your regularly scheduled programming!

Daphne wonders who gave white men the audacity. 

The past week or so has been quiet, the twins arriving back at base in time for the Independence Day celebration. They took her out to their spot in the middle of the desert. She spent the night curled up on Sideswipe’s palm, watching the night sky erupt in colors from far off fireworks. 

It was nice to get a bit of alone time after they had been gone for a while. Well, “while” was subjective. It was really only four or five days but it felt like a while to her. Her nightmares ebbed away once they were back home by her side, the bond a constant hum in her heart. 

But, back to her point. 

Who gave white men the audacity?

Obviously, the answer is a millennia-old tale of systemic misogyny and racism, colonialism, imperialism, slavery, and patriarchy. But, what gave this white man, in particular, the audacity?

Theodore Galloway is the peak of privilege. A thin, wiry balding man in his forties with skin the color of milk and glasses that were fashionable a decade ago. Even through the video monitor, she can feel his condescending glare. He addresses her as “Ms. Winters,” not Ambassador and her fists clench underneath the table. 

Apparently, Galloway is the new National Security liaison and will be her counterpart in the American government. She can’t believe Bartlet did this to them. She  _ can’t  _ believe Bartlet did this. Her eyes flick over to his panel on the monitor, the vein bulging in his forehead and the look of exasperation on Leo’s face. 

She leans over to Leilani, her assistant. “The President looks pissed to you too, right?” she whispers, her eyes flickering over the other people at the table. Optimus, Prowl, and Jazz all sit in their holoforms and she can feel the displeasure in the EMFs. Lennox and Epps are exchanging notes, a frown deepening on Lennox’s face. The faces on the screen, however, look pleased. Morshower and Keller are leaning back in the chairs, folding their hands contently in front of them. 

“Yeah,” Leilani whispers back, furiously scribbling something down on a notepad. “I think he was forced to choose Galloway. Probably combined effort between the Pentagon, and maybe Armed Services or Foreign Relations in the Senate.”

“Suspicious,” she says, smoothing down her black and white checkered skirt. “What has he been saying? I haven’t been paying attention.”

Leilani smiles, pushing up her red glasses. “Introducing himself, his agenda. He’s sticking with the official Bartlet policies, but his tone suggests something else. Listen.”

Daphne tunes back in, fiddling with Sides’ necklace. Galloway’s been speaking for the last twenty minutes. He’s not a good speaker. He’s either too monotone or his voice fluctuates too much. “... while I think our Autobot allies have been helpful, I think you guys need to pull your weight a little more. You’re staying in our nation and we’ve been gracious enough to-”

“What do you suggest we do, Director?” she cuts in smoothly. All eyes go to her and the room goes silent, except for Leilani’s frantic writing. 

“Excuse me, who are you again?” he asks blankly, a bland smile on his face. “Are you the assistant?”

Someone hisses and she clenches the table, a prickle of carmine anger. But she covers it up with a smile. “No, sir, I am not. I take no offense to that statement, however. I think my assistant, Leilani, is quite skilled. Perhaps you’d like her help with a name chart? After all, you’ll be working with  _ my  _ staff for the rest of your tenure.” Non-polite translation:  _ get fucked.  _

He goes crimson. “I think I’m doing quite alright by myself, Miss-”

“It’s Ambassador, Director. I’m sure you can read my title on the screen. If not, we can get a tech in to help you.”  _ Are you incompetent, misogynistic, or all of the above?  _

Optimus stifles a laugh and Jazz gives her a discrete thumbs up. 

Galloway grumbles. “Pardon me,  _ Ambassador,  _ but as I was saying, they need to pull more weight. Our troops are  _ dying  _ out there because of some enemy they brought here.”

Ah. Daphne sees what he’s trying to do, trying to appeal to any patriotism or nationalism she has. What sucks for him is that she owes this country nothing, as a biracial, bisexual, mutant, this country has been against her from the start.

“ _ We,”  _ she emphasizes. “-have been. We are training your troops so they can effectively fight off any Decepticon attack. And we, including NEST, will get involved if there’s an attack. And to my knowledge, there has been no attack. What are you suggesting, Director?” Bartlet sits up in his chair. 

“I- well,” Galloway fumbles. 

“Are you asking us to break our position of neutrality in humanity’s affairs?” she questions, tilting her head. “It would be against the United States’ interests to try.”

“No, Ambassador Winters, it is not the policy of this administration to ask the Autobots to get involved,” Bartlet interrupts. “The Director was out of bounds.”

He flushes. “My apologies, sir.”

“That’s more like it,” Bartlet says cuttingly. “I know you’re new, but the Ambassador is to be treated with respect, am I clear?”

He swallows. Morshower and Keller (she should give them a nickname. The Hawks. 'Cause they definitely want to go to war) exchanged a glance. “Understood, sir.”

“Good.” The President stretches back. “There will be no more talk of the Autobots changing their obligations.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Optimus speaks up for the first time in the meeting. “Young Daphne is correct. The Autobots will never get involved in the politics of humans, unless-”

“Unless?” Galloway cannot help but interrupt, perking up like a puppy. Ew. Puppies are supposed to be cute, and Galloway definitely is not.

“Unless we believe a minority population is in significant danger and no other nation is doing anything about it,” the Prime answers calmly, his blue eyes twinkling. 

“Besides,” she speaks up. “How are you going to explain a bunch of metal robots showing up on a battlefield?”

Galloway deflates and Bartlet chuckles. “On that note, this meeting is over.” 

She knows better than that, swatting Lennox’s hand away from the meeting that’ll end the meeting. He raises an eyebrow and she waves a hand at him. “Just wait.”

As soon as the rest of the participants in the meeting are gone, Bartlet lets out a loud sigh. “Goddamn Republicans,” he swears, rubbing his head. She holds in a chuckle. 

“Here’s some water, sir,” Leo says, handing him a cup. 

“Thanks, Leo.” The President takes a big drink, sighing again. There’s a crooked smile on her face when he looks up. “So, Daphne, what do you think of Galloway?”

“I think Josh is fuming,” she says. 

“He won’t shut up about it,” Leo chuckles. “He’s been yelling at Donna for the past hour.”

“Damn Republicans,” Bartlet mutters again. 

“Agreed, sir,” Lennox says, frowning. “I don’t think anyone in this room is fond of what Galloway was proposing.” He hesitates. “If you don’t mind me asking, sir, but why is the Director our new liaison?”

He sighs, looking down at his glass of water as if he wishes it was a stiff drink. “Foreign Relations Committee in the Senate, and the Republican leadership.” Leilani flashes Daphne a triumphant smile. “Threatened to block legislation if I didn’t appoint a conservative as the liaison.”

“The leadership knows?” she asks curiously. 

“Senate and House,” he confirms. “Only seemed right.”

"And I think we're legally obligated too," Leo adds dryly.

Optimus nods. “And they are to be trusted?”

“They all swore an oath to protect this country. If they reveal anything, they’ll be tried for treason. Doesn’t stop the Republicans for being a pain in my ass,” Bartlet grumbles. 

Daphne smiles. “Don’t worry, sir. I can keep him in line.”

The President returns the smile. “I don’t doubt it, Little Miss Spitfire. Just remember I’m on your side and they can’t block that.”

“Thank you, sir,” she beams. “You can rely on me.”

“We know,” Leo says proudly. He looks beyond the camera. “Mr. President, you have a meeting.”

“Ah, yes,” he claps his hands. “Good talking to you all. Keep the faith.”

The monitor goes dark and Daphne lets out a loud sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her temples. “How we feeling?”

“Prime, I think we may need to leave the United States, join another NEST country. I am unconvinced that this President can reign in his government,” Prowl says gravely. Daphne blinks, her eyes going wide. 

“Uhh, what?” she gets out, exchanging a bewildered look with Lennox. 

“Easy, Prowl,” Optimus says calmly. “I do not think we have reached that stage yet. But, you are correct. I do not know if Bartlet can keep the more hawkish officials in check.” He turns to her and Lennox. “What do you think?”  _ Ooo, an impromptu meeting of the head honchos, fun.  _

She gestures for Lennox to go, who clears his throat and leans forward. “I think we can rely on Bartlet. All those in the military are obligated to follow his orders, even if they don’t like it. And Galloway…” he hesitates. “Even if the President is pressured by Senate Republicans to keep him, he could still fire Galloway.”

“Lennox is right. It wouldn’t be smart, but he could fire Galloway if he needed to. Hell, Bartlet could relieve Keller, probably Morshower too,” she reassures. “Granted, it’d be political suicide, but he could do it.”

“What do you think his agenda is?” Optimus prompts.

“Galloway’s?”

“Yes.”

Daphne flips through Leilani’s notes, noting the underlined parts. “Hard to know specifics at this point. But he’ll probably be repeating the same lines as the Hawks.” Lennox and Epps chuckle at the nickname. “He’ll push Autobot involvement, the sharing of weapons. But that’s not what we need to worry about.”

“No?” Optimus frowns.

“No. I can keep that all in check and that decision would have to be the President’s choice,” she confirms confidently. “Now that there's an official liaison, everything’s gonna go through him. He could block our funding, bury us in paperwork, slap us with petty violations of the treaty.” She scoffs. “He knows he has no real power because the President is on our side. But he knows how to make our life as grueling as possible, try and block any of our plans.”   


Optimus is still frowning. “Thank you for your insight.” He stares thoughtfully at the black monitor screen. “Jazz, Prowl?”

“You have heard my thoughts, Prime. I do not find these Americans trustworthy. Er, no offense to our American allies,” he adds hurriedly. 

She chuckles. “None taken.”

“Jazz?”

Their eyes go to the Autobot, who is unusually quiet. “It’s ahn interesting pickle,” he says. “Ah think we need to be cautious and vigilant. But, Ah fah one have full confidence in ahur girl,” he winks. 

Daphne blushes. “Ah, thanks Jazz. I won’t disappoint.”

“Full confidence,” he repeats sincerely. 

She turns to Optimus, his hands steepled in front of him. “So, what’s the verdict, Boss Bot? How should we proceed?”

“Cautiously,” he says finally. “I have faith in your skills, Daphne, and your President. But,” he hesitates. “I would like you to, discreetly, look into where we could go, if, Primus forbids, Bartlet, is persuaded by these Hawks, or once he is out of office.”

She nods. She understands the gravity of the situation and what he is asking of her. “Yes, Prime. You have my word.”

He smiles. “I know.” He stands up from the table, the two other Autobots standing up after him. “And I know you all have meetings to go to. Thank you all for staying.”

Daphne and Leilani make their way back to her office, her head spinning with what just happened in the meeting. She can’t imagine what it would be like to just up and leave the United States. The initial treaty had only been signed with the American government, as they were residing on American soil. The peace part of the treaty had been extended to most United Nations nations, along with the promise of help, but not the rights part. That's what worried her.

She sighs, sinking down in her chair at her desk. Leilani sits down across from her. “Heavy stuff,” her assistant jokes. 

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Yeah,” she says softly. She opens up her laptop, scrolling through the democracy index. “I’m thinking the UK, Germany, Australia, maybe New Zealand?”

Leilani nods. “Those sound like good options. Wanna add Canada to the list?”

“Yeah. Costa Rica, France, South Korea, and Japan too.” At her desk, Daphne shimmies out of her skirt so she’s now wearing the shorts she had on underneath. She throws her blazer off, peeling off her sticky tanktop and putting on a lightweight shirt. Leilani smirks, grabbing her blazer and putting it on the coatrack. 

“Gotcha.” She notes down the countries in her notepad. “Do you want me to hand these off to the research team?”

“Don’t pick James and Andrew. Go to Xi’an and Louise, they’ll be able to keep their mouths shut. But get James and Andrew on researching Galloway, I wanna know everything about him. And get the legal researchers to go through the treaty with a fine-tooth comb and find other treaties with neutrality clauses. I also wanna see if we can add legal right protections to the international treaty,” she says quickly. 

Leilani raises an eyebrow. “You think it’s going to come to that.”

“Nah,” she reassures. “I just wanna be prepared. And I wanna put out an official memo this week reminding our allies where we stand.”

“Got it, boss,” Leilani says, standing up and saluting her. “I’ll get right on it.” When she opens the door, Sides is standing before it, his hand poised to knock. “Oh, hi, Sides, go right on in, she’s not busy.” When he moves in front of her, she wiggles her eyebrows and Daphne rolls her eyes. 

“Well, hello to you too,” Sides jokes. “Hard day at the office?” he says, gesturing to her outfit. 

She groans, peeling her thighs off of the leather chair. “Yeah,” she admits. “We’ve got a new liaison and he’s a piece of shit.”

“Yeah, Prime told me. Sounds like you handled yourself,” he adds with a wink. Carnation affection blooms in her stomach, causing her already flushed cheeks to go pink. “But you shouldn’t let him treat you like that.”

“I had it handled, Sides,” she smiles. “Don’t worry. He won’t know what hit him next time.” It still bothered her, though. That these audacious white men still treated her like this, despite the literal President of the United States telling them not to. She didn’t know if it was an age thing, a sex thing, a mutant thing, a race thing, or a politics thing. Probably all of the above. It didn’t make her feel any better. 

Sides studies her for a second, before pulling on the bond. (She’s so happy they’re back and she can feel it again.) Their feelings unfurl in front of them, his mint sincerity, iron worry, and fern concern, her carmine anger, ash gray hurt, punch pink embarrassment, and violet anxiety. “‘Don’t worry, Sides’?” he parrots, his words punched with fern concern. “You forget I can basically read your mind. You can’t hide from me. You don’t  _ need  _ to.” He pulls up the chair Leilani had been sitting in and takes her hands in his. 

She slumps, sudden mauve exhaustion going over her. “Yeah, you’re right. I, well, I know it’s stupid, but I just wish they’d respect me, you know.”   


“It’s not stupid. You deserve respect and so much more,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing circles on her hand. “Sunny agrees. He’s threatening to drive to DC and teach him a lesson.”

She laughs. “What would I do without you two?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Donna!" Josh yells. Nothing. He tries again. "Donna!"
> 
> His blonde assistant reluctantly slides back into view, her head hanging. "Yes, Josh?" she says tiredly. 
> 
> "Get McConnell on the phone, I wanna give him a piece of my mind," he fumes, aggressively throwing a piece of paper into the trash. 
> 
> She sighs. "Josh, you already tried his office three times, they're not going to pick up."
> 
> "Then get me someone, anyone! I'm pissed," he says. 
> 
> She sighs again. "Okay." She slinks back to her desk. 
> 
> CJ walks through the bullpen, giving Donna a sympathetic look. "Is he still going?"
> 
> "Yes," Donna groans, resting her head on her desk. "I'm sick and tired of it."
> 
> The Press Secretary gives her a pat on the back. "Yeah. Aren't we all."
> 
> "Donna!"


	27. then it's the bomb that will bring us together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl meets some new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! I've been super excited for this chapter. We've got a lot of new faces in this chapter, let me know if y'all would like a character guide next chapter :). And make sure to check the endnotes story!!

Gabriel Coleman wasn’t often nervous. Other people thought he was. The way his leg would always bounce, eyes that moved quickly from one place to the next, interrupting a sentence with another thought, a general look of confusion about him. 

No, that was just his fucking inability to stay still.

But, in this case, he thinks he is anxious. Maybe a little scared. Confused. Huh. Maybe all three. Eyes widening, he glances over at his childhood best friend, Kota Lee, he looks just as anxious-fearful-confused as Gabriel feels. 

“What the fuck is this, then?” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his blonde-streaked hair. “I thought we were here to fight with a fuckin’ international alliance, not a bunch of _robots._ ”

Silas Korba, another one of their friends, snorts, the large Meditterian man refocusing on the presentation. Kota sends them both a glare. Kota has always been the most studious of their friends, Victor coming in a close second. And if Gabriel was being brutally honest, as he often was, Kota was a bit of a suck-up. Well. More than a bit. 

“Technically, it is an international alliance,” Victor adds dryly, smirking slightly when Gabriel flips him off covertly. 

“And I think they take offense to being called ‘robots,’ Gabe. You would have known that if you were paying attention,” Kota says disapprovingly. 

Gabe rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat. Yeah. Definitely a suck-up. But, he did love Kota. Loved all of his friends. When he moved from Manchester to Charleston, South Carolina, marked as an outcast by his newly appeared morphing abilities, coiled hair, and light brown skin, Kota had been his first friend. He wasn’t scared when Gabe came to school as Gabrielle, when he switched from he to she to they to he in a day. Kota just pushed up his glasses, introduced him to Victor, and went on with their day. 

And when Silas transferred to their school in seventh grade from Turkey, built like a truck with the speed of an Olympian on X, they welcomed the newcomer into their little group of outcasts. In their predominantly white and non-powered school, their non-white skin stuck out, along with their mutant abilities. 

But they were each other’s best friends. And when Silas had announced Kota’s grad party he was going to join the military, they all looked at each other, shrugged, and said ‘count me in.’

So, here they were, in the middle of a _fucking_ desert, sweat dripping down their backs, in some sort of futuristic, bunker, learning that there were aliens, excuse him, _Autobots,_ and they had to fight the bad ones, Decepticons. 

“This is some weird shit,” he whispers to Silas. “You know, if we didn’t just see a video from Bartlet himself, I thought we were being punked.”

Silas chuckles, looking unbothered by the heat. Fucking unfair. Gabe had lived in the South for most of his life, but his English accent and ancestral hate of the warmth had stuck. “Still not entirely convinced. But she’s pretty, no?”

Gabe follows his eyes to the woman talking to them. Wait. He straightens up in his chair, frowning. “How old is she? She can’t be older than us.” 

He hadn’t noticed her before cause, you know, _aliens,_ but now that he did, holy shit was she gorgeous. Beautiful, curly blue hair that reaches her collarbones that she keeps sweeping behind her ear. He just knows that has to be her natural color. A color that vibrant could not come from a fucking bottle. Her skin’s a warm beige color, and she looks to be mixed, maybe Chinese or Taiwanese, with a body to die for. Her fashion taste is immaculate, wearing a two-piece skirt suit that’s almost the same color of her hair with a white tank-top underneath it, a symbol that he can’t quite see stitched onto her blazer.

A man in full military garb stands behind her, he thinks that’s the commander of the base, Lennox, along with a few men sitting down. Even from here, he can see the piercing blue eyes of the men sitting. He gets a shiver down his spine. 

“Gabe?” he’s jolted out of his thoughts by Kota lightly poking him, leaning over Victor. Gabe smiles apologetically, it’s easy for him to get lost in his head, forget about the world around him, but Kota waves him off. “She said her name’s Daphne and she’s the Autobot Ambassador.”

“No shit,” he says quietly. “How old do you think she is?”

“No older than twenty-two,” Victor says, his analytical gaze looking between the girl, _Daphne,_ and themselves. Kota’s known as the smart one of the group, but Victor can give him a run for his money. He’s a whiz with computers, even without his technopathy, and one of the sweetest people Gabe knows. And, unfortunately, he’s the pretty one, and gets the numbers of all genders whenever they go out. 

(If you can’t tell, Gabe’s jealous. Even when it’s a femme day and she’s dressed to the nine, Victor always pulls more than her. Victor’s a good enough person to not brag about it, but it’s her goal to eventually get more digits than him.)

Whoops, she’s morphed. 

Her friends are used to this and don’t even notice. Silas absently pulls up her now slightly baggy shirt, patting her on the head. 

“I wonder how she got this gig,” she murmurs. “How she got mixed up with the aliens.”

Before anyone can answer, Daphne steps down from the podium, smoothing down her skirt and sitting down in an empty seat. Lennox and one of the men with the bright blue eyes step up to the podium. The man is tall, like, really fucking tall, Latino with salt and pepper hair. He was kinda hot if she was being honest. 

“Thank you for your remarks, Ambassador Winters,” the man smiles. Wait. Gabe sits up, looking at the man’s eyes. Is he-? “For those of you who do not know me, my name is Optimus Prime. I am the leader of the Autobots.”

The room suddenly fills with murmurs, their fellow recruits exchanging glances. “Wait a bloody minute-” she starts but Kota slaps a hand over her mouth. She glares at him. Damn dad friend. She can’t get away with _anything._

(It was probably for the best if she’s being honest. Kota has kept them all from doing some stupid shit.)

Optimus waits for the room to quiet down. Oh god, she thinks an alien is hot. She cocks her head. Eh. She’s liked worse. “I know that must have come as a shock to many of you. But, rest assured. My people are not walking among you. This is simply a holoform, a projection of solidified light that better allows us to interact with you. _This_ is my real form.”

He disappears in a flash and she starts, Lennox smirking. There’s a sound and she turns around in her seat. She watches as the big rig, which she had been wondering what it was doing there, fucking, stands up? Yeah, it stands up and transforms into, a, well, robot. 

Kota is gobsmacked, Silas looks like he just got punched in the face, Victor looks delighted, and Gabe? Gabe is shitting a brick. 

“Holy Mary, mother of God,” she swears. Optimus, she thinks this is Optimus, is taller than a house, colored in bright blues and reds. Oh my god, are those fire decals? He kneels down, and despite his height, size, and general fear factor, he looks rather gentle. 

“Do not be frightened,” he rumbles. “I will cause you no harm.” He smiles. Gabe didn’t know they could smile. He looks surprisingly humanoid. “This is my rootform, what my fellow Autobots look like.” The other men on the stage, the ones with the bright eyes, wave. Dear God, there’s more. “But this is also what our enemies look like.” His smile fades, his gaze turning serious. He points to a symbol on his forehead, the same one emblazoned on Daphne’s blazer. “This is the symbol of an Autobot. Do not trust any of our kind if you can not see this symbol. Do you understand?”

They all nod and Gabe can feel her heart pounding out of her chest. “Optimus brings up a good point.” They turn back to the podium, where Lennox is speaking. “The Autobots are our allies, and you will treat them as such. And they will treat you as allies as well. Hopefully friendship. But, bigotry will not be tolerated. Any concerns you have should be brought to the Ambassador’s office.” Daphne waves her hand, a small smile on her face. 

Lennox claps his hands. “And that ends orientation. You’ll now be split into your units, have some introductions, and a tour of the base. Dismissed.” Gabe gets up, cracking her back. Damn. What a day. “If your assignment is Unit X, wait here.”

Gabe exchanges a glance with her friends. Well. This will be interesting. 

~~~

Many people think Daphne is an anxious person. And they're right, of course. She can feel the pricks of violet anxiety against her skin as she quickly changes, peeling off her skirt and pulling on a pair of leggings. 

“Ah, don’t be anxious, you’ll be fine, Blue,” Sides calls through the door, sending her a pulse of amber reassurance. 

She rolls her eyes, strapping her dagger to her thigh. “That’s not incredibly helpful, Sides.”

“Yeah, you glitch,” Sunny mutters, and she hears the sound of skin hitting skin, Sides’ yelp. She smiles, Sunny wrapping her violet anxiety in his own jade protection and hibiscus tenderness. “If anything goes wrong, we’ll be there for you. Keep them in line.”

She laughs and pulls on a pair of black combat boots. She reluctantly puts her blazer back on. She hates the oppressive nature of the July heat. Her hair is constantly frizzy, her skin sweaty. Pulling her hair back into a low ponytail and grabbing her stack of files, she opens the door. “How do I look?”

Her Guardians immediately stop their bantering, their eyes going to her. They’re dressed similarly, in black jeans and the official blazer she and Jazz came up with. Unlike hers, Cybertronian glyphs are stitched in white down their arms, colored squares marking their ranks on their breast pocket. 

Of course, they still look hot. Sides is wearing his blazer unbuttoned, his white t-shirt clinging to him, while Sunny has his buttoned, wearing sunglasses and a button-up. “You look…” Sunny trails off, so many colors flashing through the bond that it makes her dizzy. 

“Good,” Sides supplies lowly, giving her a cheeky grin. “Professional. But good. Are you trying to seduce your recruits? Cause you already seduced me.”

She blushes and tries to cover it by rolling her eyes. “Jesus, Sides, you’re too much,” she grumbles, slamming her door. 

“I know you love it,” he teases as they start walking back to the rec room, where their unit is waiting for me. 

“I can’t be flustered meeting with the unit for the first time,” she hisses. 

Sunny chuckles, resting his hand on her lower back. Her cheeks go red and the bond goes bright with punch pink embarrassment and magenta want. “Yeah, give her a break, Sides. She needs to concentrate.” 

She hates how much they enjoy this. How much _she_ enjoys this. Sides takes her hand and they practically lead her to the rec room, hyper-aware of the warmth of their hands. They release her as they near the room, canary yellow amusement coloring the bond. 

Jesus. 

She takes a moment to compose herself, ignore the lingering feeling of them, their candy apple satisfaction. Tightening her ponytail, she marches into the rec room, the heels of her combat boots clicking against the tiled floor. 

Her Guardians join Bluestreak in the back who waves when he sees her. She smiles back before focusing her attention on the new recruits. They’ve all gone silent when she walked in and she can feel the press of their curiosity. 

“Beckets,” she greets, joining the brothers at the front of the room. The podium has already been broken down, but she doesn’t mind the informality. They’re leaning against the wall, the recruits sat down in the rickety metal chairs brought in for orientation. 

“Ambassador,” Yancy replies, a hint of amusement in his voice. All three of them hate the formalities, but this is the first time the unit’s been together as a whole. She glances back to the recruits, notes who’s in the front row. Maira and Amal Baqri, twins from Pakistan. Powers of invisibility and sound manipulation, and can combine them when needed. She smiles at the bright yellow of their hijabs, in stark contrast to the muted green and grays of their army fatigues. “I was just answering some questions while we waited for you.”

“Oh?” she raises an eyebrow. “Any more questions before I begin?”

A woman in the back raises her hand, short, brown curly hair with streaks of blonde, her skin a light brown. Daphne thinks that’s Gabrielle Coleman, with morphing abilities. She’s only seen a picture of when she’s more masc, but Gabrielle’s bright, jewel blue eyes give her away. 

“Yes?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a question.” Daphne’s shocked by the English accent. Huh. “Those three fellas in the back, are they Autobots too? They got the eyes.”

“Yes,” she smiles. “I was going to explain that later on, but since you’ve brought that up, I’ll introduce them now. Meet the Autobots who’ve been assigned to our unit. Bluestreak,” he waves enthusiastically, beaming. He’s been talking about this meeting for weeks. “-is the best sharpshooter the Autobots have.”

“Aw, thanks, Daph,” he beams. “I’m excited to work with you all, and you have my word that I’ll be a formidable ally in battle.” The Baqri twins at the front smile. 

“Thanks, Bluestreak. And this is Sideswipe and Sunstreak.” Sideswipe raises his hand, but Sunstreaker remains sullen, his good mood gone. She knows he’s only doing this to protect her and sends him sunset appreciation and carnation affection. “Frontliners. Two of the best Autobots I know.”

Sides winks at her. “She’s telling the truth. We’ll make sure none of you are squished.” Gabrielle chuckles. Daphne takes this as a good sign. 

“All three of them will be working with our unit, but we will probably train with Ironhide, the weapons specialist, and Prowl a few times.” She was not excited about it. “As you know, I’m Daphne Winters. I’m the Ambassador for the Autobots and I’ll be one of the leaders of the unit.” Someone raises their hand. Daphne remembers them well from her files. AJ Powers, from Brazil. They have some of the coolest powers she’s ever seen. She saw a video of them using their powers, the giant green snake avatar they could summon at will. They’re at the cusp of Omega and she wonders what their powers would be like. “Yes, go ahead.”

“Thanks, Ambassador Winters…” they trail off, as if not entirely sure what to call her. She can’t help but notice how striking they are, the warm color of their skin, the deep brown of rich soil, long, flowing black hair, an easy smile, and deep brown eyes

“You can call me Daphne,” she smiles. 

“Okay, Daphne,” they smile, and she knows they’re going to be good friends. “First off, I’m AJ, from Brazil, they/them, please. But, my question is, how did you get wrangled into this? No offense, but you look like you graduated high school.”

Raleigh lets out a chuckle and looks mortified after. She smiles, rolling her eyes. “None taken. Yeah, I am pretty young. I’m twenty, I’ll be twenty-one in a few months. I graduated from Berkeley in May, though, so I’ve been out of high school for a few years.” AJ chuckles. “How I got into this? Well, I was basically in the right place at the right time, or wrong place, depending on how you look at it. The ‘Bots needed help and I could provide it.”

“What’s your powers?” someone asks curiously. Derek Washington, from New Orleans. Came into boot camp with his best friend, Destiny, who’s sitting next to him. Alpha, class 2, and can cause earthquakes. Another one of their heavy hitters.

“Electro-magnetism,” she answers. 

“Meaning?” Derek questions and Destiny flicks him, looking mortified. “I, uh, meaning what, ma’am?”

Daphne smiles. “A little complicated, but I can take most energy sources and turn it into my own. Oh, and this.” She lets her armor appear slowly, watches the lights flicker above as shining blue metal wraps around her body. She notices that the color is changing slightly, like her hair, looking more and more like the color of the Autobot optics. 

“Oh, cool,” AJ blurts out and looks embarrassed. The boys, plus Gabrielle in the back, chuckle. “I am sor-”

“It’s no problem,” she replies, waving her hand. “You have something similar, right?”

They beam. “Yeah, I got like a snake avatar. I haven’t really met anyone else who could do anything similar.”

“There’s a few on our team who’ve got psionic powers like that. Me, you, Yancy Beckett, and you, Iolana, right?”

The woman in question starts. “I-uh, yes. Sorry, I zoned out,” she admits sheepishly, a hint of her Hawaiian accent coming through. At 26, Iolana is the oldest of their team, but she doesn’t look it, with a shock of bright pink hair and a permanent smile. She’s also one of the strongest, joining Daphne, AJ, Derek, and later Hope, as the heavy hitters. 

“No problem,” Daphne replies easily. “But, yes, that was a basic demonstration of my powers.”

“Don’t underestimate her, though,” Yancy adds. “She might be young, and her powers might just look flashy, but she packs a hell of a punch. She’s the most powerful person in this room.”

One of the boys in the back, Silas Korba, she thinks, lets out a low wolf whistle. Daphne smiles. “Thanks, Yancy. Yancy, along with his brother Raleigh will be two of the leaders of the team, along with myself, and Hope Summers, who isn’t here yet. They’ve got combat training and I’d hate to go against them in a fight.”

“Even though y’all are right out of basic, we’ll whip you guys into shape,” Raleigh teases with a wink. 

Kota Greene, Alpha, class 7, light manipulation, raises his hand and she gestures for him to go ahead. “Right, uh, I’m Dakota, but you can call me Koa. I’m from South Carolina along with these rascals.” Daphne can see Gabrielle roll her eyes from here. “My question, well, actually two questions, but my first question is why were we chosen for this unit, and why were those three Autobots back there were chosen?”

“Good questions, thanks, Kota.” A hint of blush appears on his cheekbones and she hides her smile. “Well, all of you are Beta class or higher and have a good grasp over your powers. We also wanted people who just entered the military.” She exchanges a glance with Yancy. This next part would have to be said delicately. “Our unit is experimental, the first of its kind. If it works, we’ll be used as a model for other NEST bases. We wanted to have people, who, well, haven’t yet been fighting for a nation for long. We want people who can have loyalty not to a country, but to a world. Our world, friends, that’s what we are fighting for. Not for America, even if we are on American soil. But for _our_ world. For humanity. Alongside the ‘Bots who want to protect it too.”

There’s a heavy silence once she finishes and she can see everyone chewing over what was said. Sides gives her a thumbs up and sends her carnation affection and brick red pride. “For your second question, all three of them volunteered. They’re excellent soldiers and excellent friends, once you get to know them. The ‘Bots may be intimidating,” she’s not afraid to send Sunny a glare, who gives a Cheshire smile in turn. “But they’re here for the same reason you all are, to-”

“-kick some aft,” Sides finishes. The recruits turn to look at him and he stands up straight, his eyes a shining blue. “Kick some aft and protect our new home.”

“Exactly,” she replies. “Anyone have any questions?”

Ramal Ibrahim, Beta, class 1 from Egypt, raises her hand. “Yeah. When can we start?” Daphne can feel the excitement radiating off of her and the other recruits. 

Daphne grins. She’s got a good feeling about her new unit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daphne feels at peace, her head resting on Sides' chest, Persephone purring on her lap. Her Guardians and her cat seemed to have reached some sort of agreement, a cease-fire of sorts. If they don't bother her, she doesn't hiss and try to claw their eyes out. Simple, really. 
> 
> "How'd you think it went?" she asks. Sunny is out on patrol, but she can feel his steady presence in the bond, the gold quality of him wrapped around her. The bond just keeps getting stronger and stronger. She's not concerned, though. On the contrary, she quite likes it. 
> 
> "Good," he says, his fingers running through her hair. "None of them seem too prejudiced. Didn't have to threaten any of them."
> 
> She laughs. "Yeah, they seem like a solid group. I think we can whip them into shape."
> 
> There's a beat of silence. "And none of them seemed too interested in you."
> 
> Daphne raises her head off of his chest, frowning. His eyes are solemn, no apricot mirth. "Wait, what do you mean, Sides? 'None of them are too interested in me?'"
> 
> His hand tightens around her waist. There's tension in the air and she can almost see it, taste it. He lets out a breath. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Just, just go to sleep, Blue. We'll talk in the morning."


	28. of some old queen or other (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl gets tested and tests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I had a really fun end notes story but then I accidentally reloaded the page and lost it :(. No end notes story this week folks!

_ Daphne is dreaming like she often does.  _

_ She does not believe this is a nightmare. She does not feel the familiar press of fear around her throat, violet anxiety ricocheting through her ribs.  _

_ But this is not a happy dream. There are no familiar faces, no familiar emotions coloring her subconscious.  _

_ She is not corporal, in this dream. Her body is made out of lightning, blue lightning. It’s like she’s made out of fireflies, or something, light flickering through her and around her. It does not feel strange. It does not feel unwelcome. It does not feel unfamiliar. It feels like a memory of an old friend, of some deeply buried feeling. It feels like satin sheets against smooth legs, like water on a hot day.  _

_ Celestial cannot remember when she’s felt this way before if she ever really has. This is just a dream, of course.  _

_ (When did she become Celestial again? This part was lost in translation. When was she last Celestial? Was it when she was confronting a metal monster?) _

_ She is standing by well. The well is made of shimmering stone. She runs her firefly fingers over the ledge of the well, feeling the etchings of something engraved into the stone. This also feels familiar. It looks familiar. Yet, she cannot remember she’s felt or saw something like this before. Peculiar.  _

_ She peers over the ledge of the well, expecting to see the dark depths of water. But that is not what this well holds. The well holds liquid energy, an energy that’s almost the same color as the lightning that is in the shape of her body. If you were not paying attention, you would say the colors are identical. But Celestial is paying attention. She’s studied the shades of blue, the azure, cobalt, cerulean.  _

_ But are the minute differences really that important when you know they are practically identical? What matters is the perception, of course.  _

_ She is peering over the well. She does not know how far down the well goes. It looks almost limitless, everything and nothing all at once.  _

_ (Celestial remembers feeling that way before. When did she feel that way before?) _

_ It looks like it has no end, but she knows better. Everything has its point. It’s only a matter of finding the endpoint.  _

_ There is a pebble in her hand. She does not know where it came from. Of course, this is a dream, and nothing really applies in dreams. Nothing really matters in dreams.  _

_ (Is this a dream? Everything about this feels so familiar. It’s on the tip of her tongue. Does she have a tongue in this dream?) _

_ There is a pebble in her hand. She wishes to find the endpoint of the well. So, she tosses it into the swirling blue depths.  _

_ She frowns.  _

_ The pebble is floating. No, not floating. Resting. The pebble is resting on some sort of glass divider in the well, only a few feet down. She can see through the divider but objects cannot pass through it. Peculiar.  _

_ Celestial frowns again. She wishes to know what the divider is. What it is hiding.  _

_ (What is it hiding? Is this dreaming hiding something? Everything about this feels so familiar, yet, so unknown at the same time, like seeing a friend from childhood all grown up.) _

_ She is now sitting in the well, her feet, or an approximation of her feet, dangling in the water, or an approximation of water. The energy feels cool against her firefly skin. It does not sting her, does not hurt. It feels so familiar.  _

_ She is now floating in the well, the tips of her toes resting above the glass divider. She believes, in this dream, she can hold her breath as long as she wants. So, she does, holding her breath as she sinks into the liquid energy.  _

_ When she touches the glass, agony rushes through her. It does not wish to be touched. She should not be touching it.  _

_ Celestial is awash in sudden clarity.  _ __

_ Why this feels so familiar.  _

_ It feels so familiar because- _

Daphne wakes up in a cold sweat, sitting straight up in her bed. Persephone lets out an indignant meow, upset at being disturbed, jumping off of the bed. Her heart’s beating out of her chest, but she can’t remember why. She glances over at the clock. It’s early. Four in the morning. She can’t go back to sleep after that. And today is the first day of training the unit.

“Daphne?” Sideswipe mumbles. “You alright?” Her Guardian is blinking sleepily up at her. She feels bad. She didn’t mean to wake him up from recharge. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” she stumbles, running a hand through her hair. She absently runs a hand over the scars on her forearms. 

“You sure?” he asks in concern. “Remember, I can feel what you feel, Blue. You can’t ever escape from me.”   


_ Blue.  _

She gives him a small smile. “Yeah, it was just a really weird dream.” She frowns, recalling bits and pieces. “Just, really weird.”

Sides sits up, wrapping a hand around her waist. “A nightmare?”

“No, not a nightmare. It just felt, like, really  _ real,  _ but I couldn’t figure out why,” she says quietly. Her heart is still thundering in her chest, lava gray paranoia filling her head with smoke. 

He yawns, tapping a beat on her ribs. “Go back to sleep, Daph. We don’t have to be up for a bit.”

She shakes her head, rubbing at her face. “Nah, I, I don’t really wanna go back to sleep. But you should get your recharge.” He starts to protest but she sends him a pulse of amber reassurance. “I’m fine, Sides, really. I’m just gonna shower and get ready for the day.”

He looks at her suspiciously. “You sure?” She nods and he sighs. She knows he’s tired, she can feel his mauve exhaustion weighing down her eyelids. “Fine. But go find Sunny once you’re ready. I want him to keep an eye on you.” 

“Overprotective aft,” she mutters but smiles as he presses a kiss to her forehead. His holoform disappears, the excess energy tickling her skin. 

She gets out of bed, cuddling Persephone to her chest for a moment, before gathering her shower stuff and making her way to the bathroom. It’s quiet on base. It doesn’t start to get busy until six. That’s when the day starts. 

She smiles at the passing night watchman, shrugging off their concerns. Daphne’s not too keen about explaining her weird-ass dream to a stranger. She just wants to wash away the paranoia clinging to her skin and start her day. 

There’s no one in the showers and she feels her shoulders relax. Thank God. Some of the soldiers still give her weird looks. She doesn’t mean to pry, but it’s like they forgot she was a telepath. She can feel their prejudice as if they’re shouting it at her. 

The worst is when they think she fucked her way to the top. She can’t help but snort as she turns the water on as hot as it can go. It’s as implausible as it is insulting. She’s just glad Sides and Sunny can’t read minds. Someone would be dead already. 

Her hair is too long. She notices it after her shower, her hair wet and straight, falling to her midback. She doesn’t like her hair long. Too noticeable, she thinks. There’s a pair of scissors in her shower bag. She’s cut her hair before when she couldn’t go to see a hairstylist. 

She cuts it so it reaches her mid-neck. Dry and curly, it will tickle the bottom of her jaw. Much better. There’s blue all over the bathroom. 

_ Blue.  _

Her dream is still on her mind as she walks towards the base entrance. It shouldn’t be. She should be thinking of the first day of training her unit, what that will be like. Instead, her mind is clinging to the memory of something that didn’t happen. It sticks to her, like a stubborn piece of gum that refuses to leave the bottom of your shoe. 

Sunny is sitting outside, his optics to the horizon. She shivers through her thin sweatshirt in the early morning air. “Hi, Sunny.”

“Sides said you had a bad dream?” he asks, offering her his servo. He frowns. ”Wait, did you cut your hair?”

She holds in a laugh, stepping onto his outstretched servo. “Yes and yes. But it really was just a weird dream, not a bad one.”

His optics study her. Blue studying blue. “I don’t believe you’re fine. You can fool Sides, but not me.” He brings her close, sheltering her from the cool breeze. 

She rolls her eyes. “He was tired. And I didn’t fool him. I’m okay, really.”

“If you were really okay, you’d still be asleep. Or you’d be talking so much I couldn’t get a word in otherwise.”

Shit. He’s not wrong. She sighs. “It was just, just really weird, you know? Everything about it just felt so familiar, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.” She’s not explaining it well, so she tries to send him what she felt, lava gray paranoia, mist gray uncertainty, sky blue confusion, lilac unease, gray disorientation, imperial red frustration. And the color blue swimming around her, the feeling that she was so close to solving a puzzle, but she couldn’t. 

He hums thoughtfully. “Weird,” he agrees. Sunny is calming in a way Sides is not. Sunny is an anchor, grounding. Sides keeps her up in the sky. 

“I feel like I’m so close to figuring something out, but I can’t, you know?” she says. 

“Like you have all the pieces but you don’t know how to put them together,” he supplies. 

“Exactly,” she agrees, leaning against him. Iron worry flows through the bond suddenly, but just as suddenly it appears, Sunny buries it. She lets it go. Just this once. 

(Daphne does have all the pieces. The feel of everything and nothing all at once. The feeling of eating a star. The feeling of being a star. The shades of blue. Blue studying blue. The information is hidden from her. The conclusion purposefully kept from her.)

(But you know the ending of this story, right? Will it end well? Will it end with understanding and calm? Or will it not end well? They should have learned from the past. A star can continue being a star, bright and pulsing, or it can turn into a black hole and eat everything around it.)

(How will this story end?)

(That is a question for later.)

(Back to the present.)

~~~

Daphne realizes she made a mistake. She can’t pull her hair into a ponytail. Despite the cool morning, the afternoon heat is oppressing. At least they’re not outside, the meager air-conditioning in the training room making it somewhat bearable. 

She glances over at the Autobots. They look peachy. She scowls. She wishes she had a built-in cooling system. 

The rest of their unit is sweating profusely. Raleigh and Yancy, used to the cold climate of Alaska, look ready to pass out. Even the recruits from south of the equator, AJ, Ramal, and the Baqri twins, are looking uncomfortable. She feels for Maria and Amal especially, in their hijabs and skin covered from head to toe. 

“Okay, I know we’re all, like, dying,” she says and some of the unit chuckle. “But we’ve got to start training. And the heat only gets worse.”

“And I thought the South was bloody hot,” Gabe mutters, crossing his arms. Besides him, Victor, Beta, class 7, rolls his eyes. 

“We-” she gestures to herself, the Beckets, and the ‘Bots. “Want to get a baseline understanding of your powers. We know your levels and classes, but we want to know more than what numbers can tell us.”

“Will we get to see a demonstration of your powers?” Maira asks, a hint of a challenge in her voice. Behind her, Destiny nods. 

Daphne cocks her head. “Eventually,” she answers. “I wouldn’t want to fuck one of you up accidentally,” she adds with a smile. Maira’s eyes widen but Destiny returns the grin.

Raleigh lets out a snort. “Right, you heard the Ambassador.” He looks down at his clipboard. They’ve paired each of the newbies up for a spar. “First up, Silas and Ramal.”

The two recruits make their way to the middle of the training room, the rest of them pressed against the wall. Yancy gestures and his honeycomb shields make a cylinder around them. “Who do you think is gonna win?” he asks her. 

“It’ll be tough, but maybe Ramal,” she answers, chewing on her lower lip.

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?” She doesn’t blame him for his skepticism. Ramal is 5’1, 5’2, while Silas is pushing 6’6, his muscles bulging. “He’s Alpha, class 9, and she’s still a Beta.”

“But she does have slight pre-cog,” she points out. She studies Ramal for a moment, noting the wicked grin on her face, the slight bounce in her step. She claps her hands. “Okay, Silas, Ramal. We want to see what you guys have got. Keep hand to hand to the minimum. You’ll go until we call it or one of you surrenders.”

“You won’t catch me surrendering. Us Korbas never surrender,” Silas declares, cracking his knuckles. Ramal rolls her eyes, fingers twitching at her side. 

“This sure will be interesting,” she mutters, clearing her throat. Behind her, Sides hums in agreement. “Begin!”

Silas makes the first move, rushing her like a bull. Ramal nimbly sidesteps him, throwing out a concussive blast. He stumbles backward and bounces off of Yancy’s shield, who winces in sympathy. “They kinda hurt like a bitch,” he says. 

Ramal has a smile on her face as Silas shakes it off. He dodges her next blast, his enhanced speed coming in handy. He manages to clip her on the shoulder and she falls to the ground. But before he can box her in, she blasts him so hard he flies through the air. And keeps blasting. 

“Enough!” Daphne barks. Ramal immediately stops, a pleased look on her face. Silas looks disoriented but alright. “Thanks, you two. Ramal, you win this one.” 

Silas looks slightly shamefaced as he makes his way back to his friends. Ramal, to her credit, gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Sorry, buddy. Guess you’re not used to fighting anyone with pre-cog?”

“Like Spider-Man?” he jokes, giving her a smile. 

She throws her head back and cackles. “Like Spider-Man.”

Next up are Kota and Maira. Daphne is interested in this one. Maira can go invisible, like, invisible not only to the human eye, but to most sensors. But, Kota can manipulate light. Sunny was the one who suggested this pairing and seeing the interest in his eyes, Daphne was quick to follow his advice. 

Maira seemed to have the advantage, her twin, Amal, cheering her on from the side. Daphne could see the concentration in Kota’s eyes as he tries to figure out how to see her and then the smirk on his face when he renders her visible. 

Kota wins that one. 

Derek wins the match between him and Amal, and Destiny wins the next one between her and Gabriel. But, Gabriel wins the one between himself and Victor. 

The last match of the day is between Iolana and AJ. At almost the same power class, similar powers, it’ll be the best match of the day. 

Yancy widens his sphere and Daphne stands at the ready, in case it gets out of the hand. Both recruits look ready, composed though. There is no smirking, no meaningful glances. Just an understanding of what is about to happen. 

“Begin!” she calls. 

There’s a beat of silence before AJ explodes, their avatar spilling out of them. It’s beautiful, a glowing green that surrounds them, a giant snake that sits coiled in the middle of the arena. Raleigh lets out a low whistle. 

Iolana’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t let her fear show. Instead, she calls up her own psionic weapons, a bow, and an arrow. AJ strikes, their snake moving fluidly through the air. Iolana throws up a shield, somersaulting out of the way just in the nick of time. 

She fires gleaming pink arrows at AJ, who flinches, the damaged parts of their avatar flashing a dark green. AJ charges again and Iolana’s weapons change into psionic claws, raking through their belly. 

AJ bellows, their avatar flickering. Daphne exchanges a glance with Yancy, ready to call the fight. But AJ comes back with a vengeance. The avatar goes bright green and they strike, Iolana stumbles and falls, her pink weapons fading. 

Both recruits are breathing hard when the fight is called. “Great job,” she smiles. AJ offers Iolana a hand, helping her up. “You all did well. We’ll meet again Wednesday to have our first session with the ‘Bots.”

“Wait,” Maira pipes up. She’s still pissy after losing to Kota and Amal nudges her sister, her eyes wide. “We all had to fight. Why don’t you and the Beckets have to?”

Yancy bristles. “Because-”

“Why do you ask?” Daphne cuts him off, cocking her head. “We’re your leaders. You’re supposed to trust that we know what to do.”

Maira scoffs, crossing her arms. “Yeah, maybe them, but not you. You’re like a kid. How are we supposed to trust you?”

“Watch it,” Sunny barks, clay protectiveness, and lime distaste ricocheting through the bond. 

“It’s okay, Sunny,” she says. Daphne doesn’t allow the impending wave of carmine anger wash through her. She’s been here before. She’s always here. No one thinks much when they first see her. She’s always tested, one way or another. “Yancy, Raleigh, are you willing to give me a hand?”

The brothers exchange a glance. “Uh, sure, whatever you say, boss,” Raleigh says nervously. They step into the circle that was just occupied by AJ and Iolana. Sides tries to catch her eyes, but she ignores him. She has to do it for herself. 

“Daphne, you sure?” Yancy hisses under his breath. She can feel the slight fear he’s projecting and she gives him a reassuring smile. 

“I won’t cause too much damage, I promise. And hey, to make it fair, I won’t even leech off of yah,” she teases. 

“Yeah that makes me feel so much better,” Raleigh rolls his eyes, cracking his neck. 

She turns back to the group. Maira looks pleased with herself. Too pleased. “Alright. We’ll be giving you all a demonstration of what we can do. What you all should be able to do. Sorry, Maira, I’d give you a chance, but I don’t think you’d last long. Wouldn’t be a good representation for the group. 

Maira opens her mouth to say something, her eyes indignant, but Amal slaps a hand over her mouth. “Thanks, Ambassador.”

Was that petty? Probably. But it felt good, so she did it anyway. 

“You guys ready?” she asks, cracking her neck. They exchange another glance. 

“Whenever you are, Daph,” Yancy answers. 

“Then let’s begin.”

As she expected, Raleigh moves first. He throws his hands apart and she barely dodges the blast, dust exploding behind her. She steps to the side and her armor materializes around her. Her magic coils around her arm like a whip and she lashes out at Raleigh. Yancy shields his brother and throws one of his honeycombs in her direction. 

She has a new trick that she’s been working on with Arcee. She holds up a hand, concentrating on the yellow honeycomb and watches as it turns blue, and hurls it back in the brothers’ direction. They jump apart and there’s a squeal from the recruits as they’re almost hit. 

“Not fair,” Raleigh whines and throws another blast in her direction. She shields herself but stumbles slightly backward. She can feel Raleigh trying to pull apart her shield, feel her magic straining at the edges. 

She pulls energy from the lights above and watches as they flicker out. Her attack is twofold. First, she hijacks Yancy’s shield and traps him within it. Then, she wraps her blue whip around Raleigh’s ankles, who yelps as he falls. 

It’s not that they’re not good. 

It’s just that she’s better. 

Well, more powerful. 

Daphne smiles, letting her magic fade around her and the lights turn back on. She offers Raleigh a hand who uses the opportunity to pull her down next to him. She lands hard on her back, laughing. 

“You know, you only won because you could use your powers,” Raleigh says, smiling at her. 

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, we all know I’m bad at hand-to-hand, can it Rals.”

“Come on, kids, stop flirting,” Yancy mockingly scolds, helping them both up. She can’t help the blush that climbs up her cheeks and the smirk on Raleigh’s face. 

“And that was a brief demonstration of our powers. You’ll see more in the future,” she says, turning towards the recruits. 

“Cool,” Gabriel says under his breath and Kota elbows him. 

“Next week, we’ll start working with the ‘Bots. Don’t get discouraged if it doesn’t go as well as you hoped. Fighting the ‘Bots is a different beast.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you,” Sides pipes up. Sunny grumbles from beside him. “Well, at least  _ I  _ won’t.”


	29. i want the one i can't have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl is a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst goblin has been fed. Enjoy <3.

The last week had been a blur of training, meetings, and even more training. Daphne can feel the bruises on her forearms and the soreness in her legs as she makes her way up the ramp that leads outside. Wincing slightly, she catches her breath at the top, the sound of music and laughter reaching her. 

She’s tired. That’s a fact. After that first training session, it had only gotten better. She’s on her way to getting Maira to like her. It’s nowhere near close to respect, but it’s something. In one of their hand to hand combat sessions, Daphne had her ass handed to her by the older woman, who had laid her flat on her back in a matter of seconds. 

Daphne’s unafraid to admit she’s shit at fighting if she can’t use her powers. Despite Arcee’s and Sunny’s best efforts, she will never become a good fighter. She can hold on, usually when it’s combined with her own powers. So she pretty much got beaten up by each of the new recruits, hence the bruises littering her body and the soreness in her muscles that scream every time she moves more than an inch. 

“Ambas- uh, Daphne?” Her head whips up to see Victor Morgan, one of the new recruits, standing in front of her. He waves shyly to her. “You okay? You’ve been standing there for a while.”

She laughs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I’m just-” she winces and she stands up. “-sore.”

He nods in sympathy. “Yeah, no offense, but you kinda took the ‘L’ this week.”

“None taken,” she replies. Damn. She really is bad. “I’m kinda shit at hand to hand, but my powers make up for it.”

“I’m the opposite. Powers aren’t that great, but I can hold my own in a fight,” he says. “What good can technopathy do in a fight?”

“You’d be surprised. Besides, I think you’re gonna be a great assist to the team,” she reassures. She hadn’t been able to talk to Victor much. He’s usually pretty quiet during training, but he seemed like a nice guy. Funny. 

Even in the relative darkness of the mouth of the tunnel, she can see his blush light up his golden-brown skin. “I-, uh, thanks, Ambassador,” he mumbles bashfully, rubbing at his neck. 

“Just call me Daphne. It feels weird being called an honorific by people older than you.”

Victor laughs. “Sometimes I forget you’re younger than me. It seems like you’re much older sometimes.” He looks at her appreciatively. “You’ve been doing a great job, by the way. Everyone thinks so.”

It’s her turn to blush. “Thanks, Victor. You wanna head to the party?” He smiles in confirmation. 

It was actually Jazz’s idea to throw a party. He pitched it to her and Lennox earlier in the week, said it was a way to bring everyone together and to help the new recruits bond with both their fellow soldiers and the Autobots. Lennox had been hesitant at first, because, technically there aren’t really supposed to be parties on military bases, but he had been overridden by Optimus’s solemn enthusiasm over being able to take part in a human tradition. 

Jazz put Lennox in charge of finding a spot to hold the party (and he chose to hold it outside because there really wasn’t a big enough space to hold  _ everyone _ ), Epps in charge of the food, Bluestreak in charge of entertainment, with Beckett brothers overseeing, Arcee in charge of decorations, and Daphne and her Guardians were put in charge of the most important task: music. 

She can hear the playlist they chose as they draw near to the campfire. She smiles at the choice; “All the Stars” from the Black Panther soundtrack. She waves at Victor, who joins up with his group of friends from basic. Gabe teases Victor, who nervously looks in her direction. Daphne rolls her eyes, but can’t help the blush that climbs up her neck. 

She can’t see her Guardians, but she does see Bumblebee. Her smile grows larger as she sees who’s with the yellow ‘Bot. “Sam! Mikaela!” she calls, walking their way. 

The couple’s heads snap over to her direction and Epps, who they were talking to, laughs. “Daphne!” Mikaela says excitedly. The teen runs up to her and hugs her. “You look cute!” Cute may have been a stretch, but she made an effort, wearing something that wasn’t workout or business clothes. She’s wearing a pair of ripped, high waisted jeans and a low-cut gray shirt.

Daphne hides her wince and hugs Mikaela back. “Hey, kid,” she teases and the kid in question lightly swats her. 

“Hey, I’m only a few years younger than you,” she scowls, pulling away from the hug. 

She rolls her eyes. Daphne can’t help but feel sisterly towards Mikaela, especially when the brunette revealed she was one of the only close friends she had. “Whatever,” she says good-naturedly. They make their way back to Sam, Epps, and Bee. “It’s good to see you, Kaela. You too, Sam, Bee,” she adds. 

“What am I, chopped liver?” Epps scoffs, taking a drink from his beer. 

“Epps, I see you every day. I haven’t seen this three in forever,” she counters. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says, ruffling her hair. And so Daphne becomes the kid. Oh, how the tables have turned. “Can I get you something to drink?”

She hesitates. Before this past spring, she would have immediately said yes. But after her kidnapping, and, you know,  _ torture,  _ she hasn’t gotten drunk yet, hasn’t even touched a drop of alcohol. But, now, now, she can feel the prick of violet anxiety and iron worry. “I…” she trails off. 

Epps sees her hesitation. “Hey, it’s alright if you don’t want to. No pressure.” She can feel the curious looks Sam and Kaela are sending her way, the weight of their inquisitive thoughts. She thinks they know what happened, but not the full details. 

Daphne lets out a deep breath. She’s safe. She’s fine. No one is going to drug her. Alcohol wasn’t the reason why she was kidnapped. She was drugged. “I think I will have something. A Mike’s, if they have any?”

“You sure?” he confirms and she smiles. Despite his constant joking, Epps’s a sweet guy. 

“Yeah, I’m sure, thanks.”

“One Mike’s, coming up for the Ambassador,” he exaggerates and she laughs as he goes off in search of the cooler. 

“What was that all about?” Sam asks curiously. “Oh, it’s, uh, also good to see you too,” he adds, blushing. Kaela rolls her eyes. 

“Um, well, when I got kidnapped this summer, my drink was drugged, so Epps just wanted to check and make sure I didn’t get triggered,” she says quickly, avoiding eye contact. 

Sam goes bright red. “Jesus, Daph, I didn’t mean-”

She waves a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, Sam, really. You didn’t know.”

“You doing okay with that?” Kaela asks softly, concern written all over her face. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m doing really good. I’ve been seeing a therapist and it’s been good.” Unconsciously, her hand goes up to rub at her neck, at the fading scar. “Bee, how are you?” she asks, changing the subject. 

The Autobot’s door wings flare up and she can feel the delight in his EM field. “Excellent, Daphne, thank you for asking!” he beams. God, she had forgotten how much she liked Bumblebee, his enthusiasm, easy-going nature, his endearing speech pattern. “I’ve missed being on base and seeing everyone. I’m happy to be here.”

“You should come by more often,” she replied. 

Kaela glares at Sam. “Yeah, we would, if this one didn’t stop getting grounded all the time.”   


Sam winces and Daphne raises an eyebrow. “Not my fault parents are insane,” he says meekly. 

“And what’s their insane behavior in reaction to?” Daphne questions, smirking. 

“Oh, you know, uh, forgetting to call home, or forgetting my phone entirely,” he admits sheepishly. 

“Sam’s parents don’t like it when I only check-in, they like to hear from him too,” Bee chimes in. 

Sam pats Bee on the leg. “Yeah, it’s not your fault buddy, it’s mine. I’m just so forgetful sometimes.”

Epps comes back, holding her Mike’s in one hand, a cube of  _ something  _ in his other. He holds the cube far away from him as if it was radioactive. “Ironhide told me to bring you this, Bee. Said it was high grade?” He hands off the cube to Bee, who takes it eagerly. 

“Oh, yes!” he says excitedly. “I haven’t had this in so long.” He takes a drink from it, his doorwings flapping. 

Epps hands Daphne her drink and she takes a swig from it. “Bee, what is it?” she asks curiously. 

He frowns. “Did your Guardians not tell you?” he asks and she shakes her head. Speaking of which, where were her Guardians? She hadn’t seen them all night and she knew neither were on patrol. “Highgrade is our alcohol. Your Guardians are some of the best brewers I know.”

“Oh!” she says in surprise. “They’ve never mentioned it before.” Ash gray hurt makes an appearance but she pushes it down.

“I’m sure they were just busy and forgot to mention it. That’s where they probably are, brewing,” Bee reassures. 

“Yeah, probably,” she echoes. 

She stays and talks with the group for an hour or so, her head growing increasingly fuzzy with every Mike’s she drinks. There’s no purple panic that threatens to overwhelm her, no syrup terror or lava gray paranoia. She just feels the bubbling sensation of amaranth happiness and canary yellow amusement. 

She’s at the giggling stage of the night when she gets the idea to go find her Guardians. “I’m going to go find Sides and Sunny,” she announces. 

Epps raises an eyebrow. “You sure about that, Daph?”

She waves her hand. “Absolutely. I’m going to drag those two out here and make them have fun.”

Bumblebee laughs and she shivers slightly as his EM field presses against her. “Good luck with, Blue!”

She smiles and makes her way back to the base entrance. She greets a few people on her way, Arcee, the Beckett brothers, Gabe, and even Optimus. “When you find your Guardians, dear one, give them my compliments,” he rumbles, raising up his cube of high grade. 

“I will,” she promises, her smile wide, her cheeks pink. “Do you know where they are? I haven’t seen them all night.”

Optimus cocks his helm. “They should be in the rec room. Strange they would not be out here.”

“Thanks, Optimus,” she says, grabbing another Mike’s and heading into the base. She can only feel the twinge of her sore muscles, the rest of it chased away by the warmth of the alcohol. 

She hums under her breath, taking sips of her drink as she walks to the rec room. The world is only slightly spinning, only a hint of a topsy-turvy world. Her magic is warm under her skin, content. 

Her foot catches slightly when she walks into the room and she swears. “God damnit,” she says, her drink spilling slightly. 

“Daphne?” comes an amused rumble from inside. Sides is sitting cross-legged against a wall, a vat of high grade boiling in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, silly,” she replies. They haven't had a lot of time together since the new recruits came in.

“Only me?” he teases and she notices his optics are wide and bright, his servos fumbling slightly when he stirs the vat. 

She blushes when she catches her mistake. “And Sunny,” she corrects herself quickly. “You and Sunny. Both of you. My Guardians. Why aren’t you out there?”

“I’m brewin’,” he drawls, cocking his owl-like helm. His silver armor glows under the moonlight pouring in from the windows. She’s reminded of how beautiful he is. How beautiful both of her Guardians are. She feels a burst of amethyst yearning. She misses them. “Sunny’s getting something we need.” He studies her for a moment, his optics eager, an underlying feeling of apricot mirth coming from. “Are you drunk, Daphne?”

She shivers slightly when she hears him say her name. “I- only a little bit,” she admits. She sits herself on one of the long counters in the rec room, taking a swig from her drink. “You’re drunk.”

He grins at her. “That’s a statement,” he counters, his helm falling to one side. He hits something on the side of the vat and suddenly his holoform appears in front of her. Her breath hitches, her eyes going from his unbuttoned shirt that reveals his toned, brown skin, to his tousled silver hair, to his bright, feverish blue eyes, to his flushed cheeks, to his plump lips. He’s close. “But I’ll answer it like a question. Yeah. Only a little bit.”   


“Oh,” she gets out. 

“Oh?” he questions with a smile. Sides reminds her of the cat who caught the canary, all close-lipped satisfaction, lazy confidence. “And how are you doing, Daphne? The party fun?” She can’t feel anything from him now, which is odd, only a smokey silver that makes her head spin.

“Yeah,” she breathes, taking another drink. She’s suddenly forgotten how to talk. “Bee and Sam and Kaela are there. Here.” She licks her lips. “Optimus says the high grade is good. Bee too.”

“That’s good,” he says, crossing his arms. “It is good. I’m glad they agree.” He gives her a once over, his eyes resting on her legs, her chest, her lips. “You look good. Really good. I’m surprised no one has snatched you up already. I would.” She feels as if she’s slipped into another dimension, an alternate universe where he’s not her Guardian, and she’s not her charge, where she doesn’t have to watch what she says, how she acts, where her eyes rest, how she feels. 

She wants to kiss him. 

But he is her Guardian and she is her charge and does have to watch what she says, even with the fuzziness in her veins, the blurriness in her eyes. She can’t forget that. But with the way Sides looks at her, it’s as if he’s forgotten. 

He slips between her thighs like he belongs there. Her face flushes and he gives her a lazy smile, his warm hands settling on her hips, in contrast to the cool counter. 

“W-what are you doing?” she stutters. She balls her hands into fists, wanting nothing more than to bury them in his hair and bring his lips to meet hers. But this is Sideswipe. Her friend. Her Guardian. Not even the alcohol can make her forget who he is to her, can’t make her confess the feelings that flutter under her skin like butterflies. But it highlights the parts she tries to make herself forget. The fullness of his lips. The smooth skin of his neck. The calluses on his fingers. The definition of muscles under her hands. The way his hair feels tangled in her fingers. 

She knows they’re both inebriated, she by alcohol, Sideswipe by high grade. But she thinks she wants this. (She knows she wants this, wants him in her veins, in between her legs.) Her mind goes to the times she fantasized of what it would feel like to have him touch her like  _ this  _ (she’s thought of Sunstreaker, too, and what it would be like to feel their cool metal skin against her feverish softness, their holoforms holding her in a way that’s not platonic). She knows Sides has thought the same. She can feel it sometimes when he looks at her, the possessiveness in which he handles her. All her anxiety and boundaries and logic slowly ebb away from the feeling of his hands pressing against her hips.

“I think you know exactly what I’m doing,” he whispers lowly, ducking his head. The moonlight from the windows casts his light brown skin in shadows, but it cannot hide the look in his eyes. She thinks he’s blocking the bond, but when his lips brush against her neck and she gasps, the floodgates open. 

Daphne can feel his magenta want, orchid longing, pecan possessiveness, carnation affection, crimson lust, steel gray seriousness. She can feel him all around her, his emotions colored silver and the smokey, sea salt taste of him. She could, can, will get drunk off of him, on the emotions he feels, chasing away her violet anxiety and royal purple reluctance.

All rationality goes out the door as his nose traces a line up her neck and his teeth nip at her ear. She grips the counter and her magic flares. “S-Sides,” she groans. She suddenly feels more sober than she was a few moments prior, her crimson lust burning away any bubbliness left. “This is a bad idea.”

Sides gives her a wicked grin, his teeth gleaming white. This is Sides, but it’s not Sides at the same time. It’s what was hiding behind his flirtation, his lingering touches, his honeyed words. “Is it?” he purrs, one of his hands moving down to grip her thigh, his thumb circling her delicate skin. She doesn’t know how she feels but he certainly does as her body arches slightly. “I know you don’t think it’s a bad idea, you know. I can feel it. Remember?” he asks cheekily. He’s right, of course. She doesn’t think this is a bad idea. The normal amusement is there, but his voice is husky and she bites her lip as he presses a kiss underneath her jaw. “I don’t think this is a bad idea, cause Daphne, you are just too pretty, it hurts.”

She lets out a shallow laugh. He takes that as permission, his hand squeezing her thigh, his lips sucking on her neck. Her heart skips a beat. “When you do that, I can’t think straight,” she breathes. “Bad ideas happen when I can’t think straight, Sides.”

(She’s thought of this moment when she’s been stone-cold sober, when his body has been wrapped around hers in the aftermath of a nightmare, when his caresses are more than platonic, when his metal fingers draw a line up her spine. She loves him, them, God, she does and she doesn’t want to fuck it up. But she’s drunk, drunk on alcohol, drunk on his emotions that perform a ballet of dizzying colors, drunk on his smell, the way his hands-)

“I know,” he hums against her neck and she shivers. “But I think you know what you want. I know what I want. I want  _ you,  _ Daphne Winters. All of you.”

(Want. Not love. It hits her like a bullet, and her breath leaves her. Want, not love. But his emotions chase that away.)

He doesn’t let her reply as his hand circles higher up her thigh, his other hand holding her in place. She lets out a breath that’s half a laugh, half a groan. Her magic crackles where he touches her, curling around his fingertips. He shivers when her magic touches his skin, and lets out a breathy moan as it encircles his arms. Her magic has never acted this way with anyone before, not even with Hope, who is flesh of her flesh, bone of her bone. 

She can feel his EM field, feel it swirl around her, feel the tingles of it on her thighs, feel the slight pressure when it brushes up against her own. It-it feels so good, she can feel them overlapping, feel the blue and gray mixing. Where does he stop and where does she begin?

God, Daphne wants him so bad, but her mind won’t shut up about the consequences of after. She doesn’t just want this, she wants it all. He said want, not love. Because once they start, she’s totally fucked. She won’t be able to stop. She’ll want more and more and more. She won’t be able to get enough.

But, Daphne also wants Sunny. God, she wants Sunny too and she feels like such a little selfish bitch for wanting him too. 

But then Sides bites down on her neck as his thumb hits the right place, his hand a bruising grip on her thigh, and her mind stops working, her thoughts chased away by crimson lust that burns away amethyst yearning and syrup terror of the unknown. “I’ll stop when you want me to,” he murmurs. He leans back, looking her in the eye. He’s so beautiful. Like a work of art. His eyes glow in the dark of the rec room, her magic shivering over his hands. Her breath is ragged when his eyes meet hers. She doesn’t say anything. She loosens her grip on the counter, trailing them up to his muscular arms and entangling them in his silver hair. His grin is wicked, a promise. “Darling, are you ready for more?” he asks, his hand brushing her ribs and she inhales sharply, her magic exploding.

Their lips have barely brushed when she hears someone coming into the rec room. She freezes and Sides jumps back, his holoform disappearing, and Sunny walks in, his blue optics illuminating the darkness. 

“Hey,” he frowns, holding something in his servos. “Are you guys alright?”

“I- yeah,” she squeaks, running a hand through her hair, her magic still a solar system around her. But Sunny’s eyes find her flushed cheeks and Sides, still slumped against the wall from using his holoform. There’s a fire burning in her, and she thinks he can see it.

And Sunstreaker’s gaze hardens as a brilliant flash of ash gray hurt goes through the bond. “I see. Come on, Daphne, Lennox was looking for you,” he says, offering her his palm. To her astonishment, his hurt, and green jealousy and lime distaste and carmine anger and grape betrayal, are all directed at Sideswipe. 

Her eyes flicker between Sunstreaker’s stoic face and Sideswipe, who’s not meeting her eyes. She can still taste his crimson lust on her tongue. But he’s not looking at her. If he hadn’t jumped back, she would have handled it. They’d talk about how they feel. 

But Daphne can feel Sides’ sickly green shame and taffy guilt. She’s nothing to be ashamed of. That was nothing to be ashamed of. How could he feel everything and nothing at once? And then she feels a flash of sky blue confusion, ash gray hurt, scarlet rage, until she settles on abalone indifference. 

He said want. Not love. Remember? And she’s trying not to cry. 

She feels dizzy.

Sunstreaker silently walks with her, taking her outside. The air is shockingly cool on her face, biting. The party is still going on, but she’s not in a party mood anymore, but she needs something, needs some sort of distraction. 

She can’t look at him. At Sunny. Because if she did, she’d start crying. 

Her pain and Sunny’s spark deep betrayal boil in her chest, pressing against her throat, clawing against her skin. It hurts, it hurts so much and nothing is going to help, she’s fucked, fucked up so bad-

“Daphne,” Sunny says slowly, his voice cracking and she feels like she’s going to crack. “Are you-”

“I don’t want to talk,” she breathes raggedly. She can’t talk to him. She can’t take his rejection too. She builds up a wall in the bond, she can’t let them feel her breaking apart, can’t feel Sides’ disgust, Sunny’s distaste, and hatred and rejection. She can’t. She’s breaking, broken, like a planet that’s suddenly been thrown out of orbit. 

“Daphne,” he pleads. Pleads. He brings his servo up to his helm but she can’t look at him. Won’t. “Please, please just talk to me. It’s o-”

“Put me down,” she interrupts. Sunny freezes and even through the wall she built she can feel his spark breaking. “Please, put me down, Sunny, please.” Her voiced breaks. 

He sets her down wordlessly. 

The bond screams between them. Between the three of them. It screams at her to say something, to not turn her back on them, to not give up, because-

Daphne turns away from Sunny and heads back into the base. 

She doesn’t hear the wail that claws its way up Sunny’s throat. 

~~~

Sunstreaker doesn’t know what to feel, so he doesn’t. 

He fails. 

Heartbreak and hurt and betrayal burn in his spark, his optics shuttering as he watches Daphne walk away from him. He can’t seem to stop her, frozen in place. 

He can’t feel her, he realizes. Only minutes prior, he could feel her excitement and want, then her pain and hurt and loneliness. But there is nothing there, only a wall of shimmering blue that makes his spark burn, makes the bond burn. 

He can still feel his brother, though. His stupid, stupid brother. 

Sunstreaker clenches his servo, pushing down his hurt until all he can feel is rage. He marches into the base, going to find his twin. He ignores the sobs he can hear coming from Daphne’s room. 

He finds Sideswipe in the Autobot rec room. His twin is hunched over, his helm in his servos. As Sunstreaker draws closer, he can hear his brother keening. He freezes, his brother’s regret and pain and anger washing over him. 

“I messed up, Sunny, I messed up,” Sides keens, rocking back and forth. Sunstreaker forgets his anger, his rage at his brother. “It’s all my fault.”

“I-” Sunstreaker vents, his servos twitching. He doesn’t know what to do. Sides pushes his memories towards Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker watches, watches the woman he loves flirt with his brother, watches her eyes go wide, watches as Sides forgets his obligations, their promise. 

He wants to feel angry again. He wants to feel jealousy, rage, betrayal. But he can’t, can’t do that to his brother when he sees Sideswipe breaking in front of him. 

“I’m sorry, Sunny,” Sides whispers, looking up at him. “I wasn’t thinking, I wasn’t-”

“It’s okay,” Sunstreaker says softly. He lays his servo Sides’ helm. “It-it’s okay. We’ll fix it.”

He doesn’t know if he’s telling the truth. If it can be fixed. 


	30. and it''s written all over my face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl ponders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies! It's been a while. School's been kicking my ass, BUT, I got into two law schools!! So, I've got some good free time.

“Daph,” Bryce gets out, the line crackling with static. “That’s heavy.”

She sighs, flopping back onto her bed. “Yeah,” she replies. “It is heavy.”

It’s been six days since that disastrous night, since she fucked up everything and everyone. She hasn’t talked to them, either of them, throwing herself into paperwork and reports and meetings and getting her ass kicked by Raleigh in hand to hand. She hasn’t been sleeping, heavy, dark circles under her eyes, an anxious beat running under her skin, spending her nights walking around the base. Her nightmares had started anew.

(That night keeps replaying in her head, the feeling of Sides’ hands on her thighs. It wakes her up in a hot sweat, her breath heavy. And then the feeling of Sunny’s betrayal and keening wakes her up and she starts screaming.)

It’s 4 AM and Daphne is lucky that Bryce even answered her call, the redhead notorious for sleeping the day away. But her friend has an uncanny ability to know when Daphne needs her. 

“Did you at least get to kiss Sawyer?” Bryce finally asks and Daphne can’t hold back the laugh. 

“Oh my god, Bryce, were you not listening to a single thing I just said? He walked in on me and Side- uh, Silas.” She had forgotten for a moment that Bryce was not a part of her world. She wants to tell Bryce so bad, but it’s not up to her anymore. 

“So? I see how he looked at you. He and Silas are totally into you,” she replies, and Daphne can hear the smile in her voice. 

She groans, running a hand through her hair. “T-that’s the problem, B,” she whispers. “They both like me and I like both of them and I fucked it all up. All of it.”

“Oh, Daph,” Bryce’s voice softens. “I wish I was there with you. But, remember, it takes two to tango. Silas made that choice, too. It wasn’t just you.”

A sound rips through her. “Yeah. And then he rejected me.” She laughs harshly, wiping at her eyes. “And then Sawyer…” Daphne trails off, remembering the look on his face, the way his voice cracked.

Bryce is silent for a moment. “Daphne, what happened?”

“I could feel it,” she whispers, clutching the phone to her ear. “Feel everything he was feeling, his hurt, his betrayal, his disgust-” she chokes. 

“I-” Bryce starts. “I’m sure you’re just not remembering it right, Daph. Sawyer, he, he  _ loves  _ you. I could see it. I don’t ever think he could be disgusted by you.”

She laughs harshly. “Well. He did. I could feel it. And then I ran away, so he has a right to feel disgusted. I basically rejected him.”

“Have you talked to them?” her friend asks quietly. 

“No,” she replies, staring blankly at the ceiling. She’s been avoiding them. She’s seen them out of the corner of her eye in the hallways but she quickly walks the other way, turns her back on them during training. “They haven’t tried to talk to me either.”

“Daph, I, I think it’ll be fine,” Bryce says, but Daphne can hear the hesitation in her voice. “You’ll be fine.”

“Bryce, I don’t think so,” she admits. “I think it’s fucked beyond repair.” She doesn’t think they can come back from this. Not as friends, or Guardians and their charge, or… Or something more. She doesn’t even think the bond is even there. She thinks she’s buried it too deep to ever feel it again. “I just wish you were here.”

“Me too, Daph. Me too.”

* * *

When morning comes, she’s a zombie. She had gotten no sleep at all and it feels like her head is filled with gauze. She grabs a big cup of coffee in the cafeteria and a bowl of oatmeal, looking for somewhere to sit. She finds her squad in the back, the guys from South Carolina and the Beckett brothers sitting together. Daphne plops down next to Yancy. 

He sends her a concerned look. “Hey, kid, you doing okay?” he asks quietly. She can feel the prick of worry from him, like a tag rubbing against her neck. “You look like you got no sleep.”

“Fine,” she says, pouring a packet of sugar into her coffee. “Nightmares.”

“Ah,” he replies, ruffling her hair. Across from them, Raleigh sends her an amused smile. “You seeing Dr. Jones today?”

Shit, she forgot about that. “Yeah,” she sighs and rubs her eyes. “I’ve got a full schedule today, finalizing some stuff for the next round of new recruits coming in tomorrow.”

“Hope coming tomorrow?” Raleigh asks, taking a bite of toast. 

She smiles slightly. “Yeah. I’m excited to see her. I’ve missed her.” God, has she missed Hope, her other half. Hope will know what to do.

“Who’s Hope, Ambassador Winters?” Kota asks curiously from down the table. 

“It’s Daphne, Kota,” she reminds him gently. “Hope Summers. She’s my best friend from high school, we went to Xavier’s together. She can mimic other people’s power.”

“Cool,” Gabe says, running a hand through his hair. “Any power?”

“Any power,” she confirms, taking a sip of coffee. 

“She’s Omega, right?” Yancy asks and she nods. “Yeah, Omega. Daphne was telling me a while ago that Hope is almost as good with Daphne’s power as she is.”

“Almost,” she smiles. “That’s the qualifier. We trained together more than anyone else so it makes sense she’s the most comfortable with my powers.”

“Has she ever beat you?” Raleigh asks, raising an eyebrow. “I doubt it, I’ve seen you in action,” he blows her a kiss. His affection and want are particularly written all over his face.

She rolls her eyes. “She’s come close. But we didn’t really spar that often. She mostly trained using my powers. And she’s beat most people when she’s mimicking me.”

“You’re like sisters,” Silas says, the Greek man looking at her intently. She can feel his admiration. “Sister warriors.”

She blushes slightly, but nods. “Yeah, we are like sisters. Until I went off to college, we never went anywhere without each other.” Until the battle of Mission City, she had never fought without Hope at her side. Daphne doesn’t quite have words to describe her relationship with Hope. She remembers reading  _ City of Bones  _ when she was younger and when they talked about _parabatai_ , a pair of bonded warriors, she immediately showed it to Hope. That’s the only thing to come close to describing the bond they have.

“With you two by our side, the Cons better be on the lookout,” Raleigh boasts, giving her a fist bump. 

“You bet,” she smiles. 

Raleigh spots someone behind her, “Oh, it’s the twins!” Before she can say anything, he waves them over. 

She feels a bolt of panic go through her. She stands abruptly, draining her cup of coffee. “I-I got to get to work,” she says shakily, grabbing her trash.

Yancy looks at her with alarm, his emotions jabbing her like a rock in her shoe. “You just got here, Daph, are you-”

Her pounding heart drowned anything else he was saying or anyone else for that matter. She couldn’t see them. She can’t. She momentarily forgot and, she, she just can’t. 

It feels like everyone’s watching her, everyone’s eyes on her. She can particularly feel their eyes, feel their piercing gazes, feel their concern and confusion and judgment, like a buzzing in the back of her head.

She walks briskly past them. She knows it’s them, she can feel them, she can feel the bond screaming at her, to turn around, to open up, but she pushes it down, down-

“Daphne?”

-down until the only thing she can hear is the ringing in her ears and her heartbeat. 

She holds her panic in until she reaches her office, her back sliding down the closed door. Her hands claw at her shirt, trying to claw her heart out of her chest. She’s having a panic attack, she thinks. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispers over and over and over again until she tricks herself into thinking it is okay. 

Daphne smooths her hair down with her hands and takes a deep breath. She stands up and sits down at her desk, her hands sweaty, her knees weak. There’s a soft knock on the door and Leilani walks in. “You okay, boss?” her assistant asks hesitantly. 

“I- yes,” Daphne says, balling her hands into fists. “Could you get me a glass of water?”

“Sure thing,” Leilani replies, throwing her a concerned glance that feels like a weighted blanket thrown over Daphne. She disappears for a moment, bringing a glass of water with her, closing the door softly. 

She lets out a deep breath. “It’s okay,” she whispers, shaking herself. She only has a few hours before she sees Dr. Jones, only a few hours she has to hold herself together. 

She throws herself into her work. Galloway was proving to be more of a problem than she and the Autobot leadership had felt. Juggling her Ambassador duties, training, leading a squad, the lead up to law school, and now the emotional turmoil that was her personal life was draining her. Her research team was trying their best to support her, but there was only so much they could do. She’s in meetings daily and  _ nothing  _ is being accomplished. 

Today is the first day in a week that wasn’t blocked out by meetings and running political defense against Galloway’s attempts to undermine everything NEST was trying to do. The numbers on the funding spreadsheets she has to approve start to blur in front of her eyes and the four, five, six days of no sleep start to catch up to her. 

She doesn’t know if she can continue like this. Keep it together until she sees Dr. Jones

She must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing she knows she’s being woken up by a concerned Leilani. “Daphne?” her amber eyes are wide. “Are you alright?’

Daphne blinks. “Yeah, just drifted off there,” she says gruffly, rubbing at her eyes. 

Leilani doesn’t believe her. Daphne knows this because her control starts to slip, the emotions of those around her bleeding into her consciousness. “Okay,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got your appointment.”

“Right. Thank you,” she says, getting up on shaky legs. She hasn’t anything yet today, the oatmeal from breakfast being tossed into the trash. She sighs and rubs at her eyes again. 

“You know, take the rest of the day off, after your appointment. The morning tomorrow, too,” Leilani says suddenly, crossing her arms. 

She starts. “You know I can’t. I’ve got to finalize the paperwork for tomorrow and-”

“No, you don’t,” the other woman says firmly. “I can do that. The guys in research can do it too. We’re here to make your life easier, Daph. You need to learn how to delegate.” Leilani glances her over, handing her a granola bar. “Besides, you look like you’re about to keel over. Are you sure you’re okay?”

_ Concern. Confusion. Suspicion.  _ Her world is awash in blue, she’s losing control, she can’t stop it. “Yeah, I’m fine.” The words come out harsher than Daphne meant and she sighs again. “Just-just stuff.”

“Stuff,” she echoes dubiously. “Sure. If you say so. Go take care of yourself.”

Daphne nods, munching on the granola bar as she leaves her office. She’s angry at herself for letting her emotions cloud her work. She can’t let that happen. 

Dr. Jones is waiting for her when she walks in. His smile turns into a frown as he takes in her appearance. “Daphne, are you alright?”

She chuckles darkly, sinking into one of his plush chairs. “That seems to be the only thing anyone ever asks me these days. ‘Are you alright, Daphne?’ ‘Are you okay?’” she parrots. 

He studies her. “You didn’t answer my question,” he points out gently.  _ Concern. Concentration. Worry.  _ It surrounds him like a cloud, spinning around him. 

She hadn’t realized, before this moment, how much the bond is,  _ was  _ helping her. Drowning out the sinking feeling of everyone’s emotions being thrown at her. 

Her lip starts to quiver as tears start to run down her face. “I-” she chokes, pressing a hand over her mouth. His face turns sympathetic but she hates how his pity feels. “Something happened and I think I ruined everything and now- now it’s all pressing in,” she babbles, thrusting her hands away from her. Blue sparks at her fingertips, but she doesn’t want that right now. 

“Breath,” he instructs. He stands up and walks over to her, laying his hand on her shoulder. She takes in a shuddering breath of air. Dr. Jones rubs gentle circles as she catches her breath. He brings a chair over so he can sit right next to her. “Daphne, you must tell me what’s that matter so I can help you,” he insists gently.

She nods, sniffing. “Sideswipe and I, well, we almost kissed.” She looks up for Dr. Jones’ reaction, but his face is professionally blank. He doesn’t _feel_ blank. “And then Sunstreaker walked in and Sideswipe basically just, like, ran away.” She swallows. “And-and then I basically ran away. I could  _ feel  _ how angry and betrayed and disgusted Sunstreaker was and I just couldn’t.”

There is a moment of silence as he processes what she just said. “I see,” he says evenly. “Have you talked to them?”

“No,” she sniffs. “I can’t feel the bond. I can’t sleep. I feel like I’m losing control.”

“Hmm,” he notes. “Have they tried to talk to you?”

She hesitates. “In the mess this morning, they tried to talk to me, but I just couldn’t.”

“Why couldn’t you Daphne?” he asks gently. “You know them. They’re your Guardians. Your friends.”

“I don’t know,” she says, tears starting to roll down her face. “I just can’t!” she wails, throwing her head into her hands. 

“No, you can. You’re just choosing not to,” he responds. Her face burns, but… she knows he’s right. “Just because Sideswipe may have chosen to avoid addressing his feelings does not make it right that you’re not. You’re choosing to avoid it instead of doing anything about it. You’re scared of perceived rejection.”

“I…” she trails off. She sits up, wiping at her tears. She doesn’t feel judgment from him. His face is calm, soft, concerned. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You do know what to do, Daphne,” he responds. “You must, first, regain control over your powers. Then, you have to tell them how you feel.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she says softly. “I don’t even know how I feel.”

He sighs, a small smile on his face. “Yes, you do, Daphne. It’s written all over your face.”

"But... what if they don't want me?" she whispers, the words spilling out of her mouth. "I couldn't _bear_ losing them in an attempt to gain something they might not even want."

"You have to take risks, Daphne," he says. She can feel his emotions again, but they're all soft, supporting. Confident in her. "That's how you get the sweetest rewards."

* * *

She sleeps for the first night in six days. Dr. Jones gave her sleeping pills before she left, telling her to not drink caffeine for the next few days. To relax. Her body sank into her bed, her magic coiled in her chest, a sleeping beast. 

Daphne is woken up by her door opening and someone shuffling inside.  _ Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh.  _ She doesn’t even have to open her eyes to know it’s Hope. “Hope,” she calls, rubbing at her eyes as she sits up. 

“Daph!” her friend calls happily, closing the door behind her. Hope clicks on the lamp on her desk. “I didn’t know if you were going to be awake. Your assistant told me you were taking the morning off.”

“More like forced to,” she says, flopping back down in bed. Hope studies her, her green eyes flashing in the dim light. Daphne can feel the orange press of her friend’s mind, a familiar anchor. 

“Daphne-” 

“Please don’t start,” she pleads. “I’ve heard it from everyone. Just-” she gestures Hope over. Hope warily sits down next to her, the redhead looking like she was ready to burst. “Come here,” she says, holding Hope’s head in her own. 

“Oh,” Hope says in recognition, touching their foreheads together. Daphne pushes the events of the past few days to her friends and the air sparks blue and orange around them. “ _ Oh, _ ” she says again, pulling away. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “It’s- it’s a lot.”

Hope gets up for a moment, kicking her shoes off and turning the lamp back off. She settles down next to her and wraps her arms around Daphne. 

Daphne lets out a loud, heavy sigh. Her magic uncurls from her chest and spreads through her body. She can feel the response of Hope’s powers, like a steady heartbeat. Her magic grows calm, cool, collected, reaching some sort of equilibrium. She’s been off balance. “I missed you.”

“I miss you too, C.”

They lay in the dark for a while, Daphne wrapped around Hope like they were little kids again, climbing into each other’s bed when the other had nightmares. She’s always needed someone like this. Someone to cling to, to make her magic calm down, to cease the incessant humming in her head. 

“Hope?”

She can hear her friend shifting. “Yeah, C?”

“I-” she hesitates. Because once she says it out loud, she can’t take it back. It will be out there for the whole world to see. Because once she says it out loud, she’ll have to do something about it. “I think I love them. Both of them.” There. She’s said it.

Hope sighs, running her hands through Daphne’s hair. “I think you’ve known that for a long time, Daphne. A really long time.”

“I know.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I… don’t know.” She shifts so she’s looking at Hope in the darkness. Daphne doesn’t need the light to see her friend. “There’s two of them. How-how the fuck is that supposed to work?”

Hope laughs softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t know. That’s a question for after our nap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope loves her friend. More than anything. But, even with Daphne being her other half, Hope can recognize her friend's fault. Like going almost two years with no contact because of perceived slight. Hope's forgiven her for that, but never forgotten. 
> 
> She sighs, looking down at her sleeping friend. Daphne gets in her own way when it comes to getting what she wants, getting caught in the minutia rather than seeing the big picture. Sure, she's a menace in the classroom, courtroom, or dancefloor, but once you put stakes on it? She puts her blinders on and stumbles around like someone lost in a snowstorm. 
> 
> Hope's the opposite. She'd rather rush into things than wait and be filled with doubt. That's why they work. Balancing each other out. Calling the other out on their bullshit. 
> 
> She smiles. Right now, Daphne needs a kick in her ass so she can finally get what she wants.


	31. interlude 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins reflect on some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick update! Interlude 2.5 will hopefully be out some time next week. Friends, I'm telling you, we are so close to some dramatic declarations of love.

_"i know it's over- still i cling"_

Sunstreaker thought he was incapable of love. His spark so full of rage and battle lust that it drove away any chance of him ever loving another being. 

He loves his brother. He knows that. But, it’s a different kind of love, an instinctual one that he thinks he was born with. He talked about it with… with Daphne once. When they were still on speaking terms. She smiled when he attempted to tell her about how he felt about his brother. 

“ _ I know, _ ” she had said absently, looking off into the distance. “ _ It’s how I feel about Hope. She’s practically the sister I never had. She carries a part of me in my pocket, I think. _ ” She turned to look at him, a soft smile on her face that he had never seen before. “ _ You really love you brother, don’t you? _ ”

_ “I do, _ ” he replied simply. “ _ We were born of the same spark. We are literally the other’s half. _ ”

He and his brother shared everything. Same spark, same unit, same rank, same duty, and now, they shared the same  _ beshami.  _ Sparkmate. 

If he was being honest, Sunstreaker didn’t want to share. He didn’t want to go through the impossible task of trying to find someone who was compatible with both of them, their one in a million shot. 

He wasn’t ready to claim her when Sideswipe did and it almost destroyed him and the tenuous thing they had with Daphne. It made him feel small. That he couldn’t get past his own inability to feel anything other than rage and anger and destruction to bear his spark open to another. 

Sunstreaker is jealous of his brother. This, he knows. (This, you know. Have you seen the signs?) Sideswipe could love without a second thought, flirt like it was an instinct, charm anyone he met. If any Bot showed an interest in the twins, before Sunstreaker grew the nerve to do anything, Sideswipe put on the charm and any thought of satisfaction was gone. 

He saw how his twin acted around Daphne. The lingering glances, the soft touches, the smiles, the honeyed words colored with affection. Sunstreaker was removed from it, a stoic statue in the background. He was the mentor, the protector, the progressor. He was fearful he was going to become the supporting character in the love story of Daphne and Sideswipe. 

When Sideswipe claimed her, Sunstreaker was, is, scared that it was the end. The possibility of finding someone that could love them both disappeared in front of his optics. That she would see the mech in front of her, the mech that could love her without fear, the mech that wasn’t fragged in the head, and choose him, instead of both of them. 

The rage that had coursed through him was unlike anything he had ever felt before. And he tried to remember what Prime had told him, about being stoic and calm and clear and he just  _ couldn’t.  _ He had tried too long to bury his feelings, bury any possibilities of soft pinks and periwinkle blues and sunset golds, but he just  _ couldn’t.  _

He didn’t realize he was in love with her until that moment, when he thought the possibility of her was taken away from him. But, he thinks he had been in love with her before that. 

When Daphne had been taken from him… Sunstreaker had thought he was dying, thumping his servo over his chest, trying to make the bond work again. But it hadn’t until they found her near death in that fragging house. 

That was when he thinks it clicked for him that, that he loved her. That the anger and rage he felt in that moment had been covering up something deeper, primal fear like none other. The fear of losing Daphne, his charge, his friend, his… The fear of losing something before it even happened. 

And then when he caught his brother and Daphne in the rec room, that fear came back again, of losing her before he had even had her, of being tossed to the side in favor of his brother yet again. And then the rage came back at the reminder that Sideswipe had broken their promise and then the rage disappeared when he found his brother.

Sunstreaker doesn’t know how to fix the mess they made. He blames himself for it, of course. In his fear, he held his brother back. Held himself back. Let it get to a point where a misunderstanding could happen and things were unclear. 

They can fix this. They have to.

* * *

Sideswipe has always known he would have to share with his brother. They were spark-split twins, after all. Two halves of the same sparks existing in separate forms. And only one sparkmate for the one spark they shared. 

Mechs would often misunderstand what that meant, exchanging scandalous glances when they realized Sides and Sunny were spark-split twins. The implications were just, ugh,  _ gross.  _ There is nothing sexual (again,  _ ew _ ) about the bond with his brother.  _ Nothing.  _ They were brothers, twins, for Primus’ sake. 

And because they were twins, they shared a sparkmate.  _ Beshami.  _ The thought of sharing never bothered Sides. He trusted Sunny with his life. He was sure they would find someone, somewhere who could stand the both of them. Primus wouldn’t leave them hanging. 

But, Sides had never been in love before. He was impatient, selfish at times. If somebody bored him, he left in a blink of an optic. It was more like  _ everyone _ bored him, so he never found the chance to fall in love. 

And then… then he did. 

With Daphne. 

His, their, Blue. 

Falling in love was different from what he thought it was going to be. Mechs like Ironhide made it sound like a battle of wills, Prime made it sound like a fairytale spun out of gossamer. Others had told Sides it felt like being home or finding their other half. They made it sound like some sort of might realization or life-changing event. 

Granted, finding his  _ beshami  _ was a life-changing event, but it didn’t feel groundbreaking or sparkstopping or whatever the Pit mechs had told him. 

To Sides, it felt as easy as smiling. It felt natural. It was like something had clicked inside of him and like that he was in love. It felt like he had always loved Daphne and he couldn’t remember a time before it. 

Well, he  _ could,  _ but it felt like even the times before he realized he was in love with her, he was. He should have known by the way he studied her, flirted with her, watched her every moment, the way he gravitated towards her when they were in the same room. 

She was their  _ beshami.  _ As simple as that. 

He thinks he fell in love with her the day of her graduation. (He had liked her before that, knew she was irreplaceable when his spark dropped during the February First march, but that when he knew she was theirs.) She just looked  _ so  _ beautiful, in her white dress and pink cheeks and the excitement and anxiety that radiated off of her. 

But, he had never been in love before Daphne. Had never realized how his spark would pull in her direction. 

He was an impatient mech. That, he knew. He was sick and tired of waiting. Sunstreaker may have been the better soldier, but he sucked at people. His brother was all rage most of the time, any other emotion kept under lock and key. He was clueless in any situation that required emotions and feelings. 

Sides was better at that. And he was sick and tired of waiting for his brother to act. 

So he did something about it. 

And immediately regretted it. 

He can still remember how she felt. How hot her skin felt underneath her fingertips, how smooth it was. Her pupils had swallowed up the iris, the ever-present white ring almost hidden. She had felt right in his arms. 

And then he fragged everything up. 

He still doesn’t know why he basically ran away. Well, he does. He felt guilty for breaking his promise to his brother, but why did he do it? Why did he have to ruin… everything?

He’s impatient and selfish. That’s nothing new. The consequences are new, though. There have never been consequences. Probably because he’s never cared for anything, anyone, as much as he does Daphne. 

He loves her. 

He just hopes he can save whatever they have. 

* * *

They haven’t spoken to her in almost a week. Sides can’t feel the bond and Sunny can’t feel it there. It wasn’t like, before, when she was taken from them. Then, it felt empty. Numb. Now, it feels like static, like a brick wall in between them.

Sides didn’t know she could even  _ do  _ that. Block the bond. It was the bond between Guardian and charge and it made no real sense that she could. 

It was just static. When he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine a shimmering blue in between them, made of hurt and sorrow and betrayal. 

But, that didn’t stop them from hearing her screaming from a room over after her nightmares. The first night, Sides went to go in, to talk to her, to comfort her, but the door was locked. It had felt like his spark stopped beating. It, it felt like rejection. It felt like what Daphne must have felt in the moment when he… when he rejected her. 

The nightmares kept up night after night and they would wait for her to knock on the door, for the bond to come flooding back, but it never did. 

Sides could start to feel his brother’s despair. Sunny thought the situation was hopeless and, at first, Sides disagreed. He remembered that night, her excitement and want, how her heart thundered beneath his fingertips. And he remembered everything that had led up to that moment. 

But, then, she hasn’t talked to them. 

When they saw her in the cafeteria, he thought that this was their chance. To get back in her good graces. She looked tired, deep circles under her eyes, her hair limp. Her skin was pale, the Allspark scars jumping out at them. And when Sides called her name-

“Daphne-”

-she just walked away, her shoulders hunched. Didn’t even say a word. 

That was when Sideswipe started to lose hope. That maybe he fragged everything up so much that Daphne didn’t want them anymore. 

He had tried to fix things. Sunny did too. They’ve  _ tried.  _

And now the ball is in her court. 


	32. interlude 2.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne reflects on some things.

_"i know it's over, and it never really began."_

Daphne has never been in love before. Sure, she’s had boyfriends and girlfriends, but never in love. Her first kiss was when she was thirteen, in a game of spin the bottle past lights out. Her first girlfriend was when she was fifteen, Sofia Mantega, who snuck out and would take her flying. Her first boyfriend was when she was sixteen, Julian Keller, a bad boy who wanted to give her the world. 

She had a boyfriend her freshman year of college. He was kind and sweet and smart. He was an English major and would read her poetry on the quad. She really liked him. A lot. She could see herself falling in love with him. But, then, he noticed her roots would never grow out and he put two and two together and came up with mutant. He became hateful and violent and ruined what she thought love was. 

She hasn’t dated anyone since then, hasn’t had time, preferring noncommittal hookups and trysts on the dance floor. Daphne doesn’t want to admit it, but it hurt her. The rejection. In her eyes, it solidified the view that being a mutant is bad and she should be ashamed of who she was. It made her think maybe she just wasn’t meant for love or relationships or anything like that. 

And then… then came Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They were like no other boy she had ever met. Well. Maybe that was because they  _ weren’t  _ boys. They were robots. Mechs. 

She never pictured herself falling in love with them. It happened slowly, over time. She liked how they complimented her and respected her. They treated her like an equal, even though it was their duty to protect her. They weren’t scared of her powers, either. 

(Her powers seem to grow every day. Her magic hums under her skin. She doesn’t think this is normal. The Professor and Jean told her that once she had reached Omega, her powers wouldn’t change any more. And she was fine with that. She was powerful. But it keeps growing and growing and growing and she doesn’t think it will ever stop. She thinks something else is at play here. Suspects it. But, she knows her Guardians would tell her if there’s something wrong. She just knows it.)

Sometimes she worries they like her out of duty. They’re bound to protect her from threats, their very purpose to protect her. But, then, sometimes, she catches how they look at her, the softness in their gaze and the doubts burn away. 

The bond is something she will never get over. She’s felt alone, for so long. Even when she had Hope by her side, she felt like a planet that had lost its orbit, lost its sun, lost its place in the world. 

Daphne is… unique. That is the most polite way to put it. It took her six months to understand her own powers. The professor couldn’t even help it at first. Jean either. And then Wanda finally came in and things started to make a little sense. But even though she and Wanda are similar, Daphne is still alone. There is no one with powers like hers. 

Technically, she doesn’t even really have power or magic. She leeches off of other sources. When she was still learning, she didn’t realize she could borrow, well,  _ leech,  _ from things and people, and she was just using her own energy, it left her exhausted and skinny. Kids in school used to be afraid of her and she wore gloves like Rogue’s. 

She is unique. No one has a mutation like hers. She is alone. She’s been lonely for most of her life. Until now. 

When the bond clicked into place, first, she saw colors, and second, it was like someone had turned back on the gravity. She no longer felt like a planet drifting through space. She had found her solar system again. (They didn’t call her Celestial for nothing.

For the first time in her life, she wasn’t alone. There were two people, mechs, who  _ had  _ to be by her side. Who are duty-bound to never leave her. Never leave her alone. 

She didn’t have to face her anxiety alone. Her fears alone. She didn’t have to face bigots, handsy club-goers, killer robots, mean girls, college,  _ life  _ alone.

But they never made her feel like she was a job, a chore. Sure, Sunny may have grumbled in the early days, but from the first time she met him, she could feel his carnation affection, feel Sides’ thulian pink curiosity. They genuinely liked her. Liked her ramblings about school or politics, her antics with her friends, her powers,  _ her.  _

They made her feel like she had a place in the world. That she wasn’t so alone. 

That’s what made her first fall in love with them. 

Sides came first. It was easy to fall in love with him. He is so protective, more so than Sunstreaker at times. She remembers in the coffee shop, how sweet he had been when he was worried about her studying too much, how angry he had been protecting her from the man who tried to attack her. He hadn’t even flinched when her magic had flared up, just gathered her to his spark. She thinks that was when she realized she may like him more than him being her Guardian. 

And she thinks she knew she loved him when he was the first thing she saw at the February First incident after almost being kidnapped. She felt his  _ worry-fear-care  _ over the bond and his hands had trembled when he held her. It was so, so easy to fall in love with Sideswipe. So easy when all he did was flirt and compliment stay by her side. 

It was different with Sunstreaker. It wasn’t easy, like with Sides. Sides was an open book. Sunny built up walls. But, she thinks she started to fall in love with him when he called her  _ ah lan,  _ that night after her birthday when the Cons found her _.  _ She still has no idea how he learned that. But it meant precious flower. It meant that the speaker thought the person was  _ precious  _ to them. 

She knew she was in love with him when he gave her that dagger. She could feel his  _ pride-affection-care  _ that wrapped around her like a coat. It was the knowledge that he didn’t have to, but he did. And he did it for her. 

She loves them. She wants them, wants whatever they could have together. But… she’s scared. Scared of what could happen. What if it doesn’t work? What if they reject her? What if they die and leave her all alone? What if  _ she  _ dies and leaves them all alone? 

She likes to think she’s brave. She’s gone toe to toe with Megatron, helped to negotiate an interstellar treaty, almost died at the hands of a crazy mad man in a dirty basement, an ambassador for a species of sentient machines, and is leading a unit full of people older than her. She’s brave. She can put her own anxiety and fear behind her and be brave. 

But when it comes to getting what she wants, she’d rather live in what-ifs than live with the certainty of rejection. 

She’s scared. She loves them and wants it but she’s scared. So scared. 

She’s reminded of that one song, that one that goes  _ shyness is nice and shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life that you’d like to.  _

Well. 

She guesses it’s time to be brave. 

* * *

Arcee listens to her patiently, the Autobot sitting next to her outside of the base. Daphne didn’t know who else to talk to. Dr. Jones already gave her his opinion, Bryce wants her to throw caution to the wind and become a seductress, and Hope is just waiting for her to do  _ something.  _ She can’t talk to Lennox or Epps, she couldn’t stand the teasing, and she can’t talk to anyone in her unit. She couldn’t imagine talking to any of the other Bots about her, ugh,  _ feelings,  _ which left Arcee. 

After a training session that she needed badly, she asked Arcee if they could take a drive a mile or two outside of base. The Autobot complied, but she could feel Arcee’s curiosity. 

“... and know I just, I don’t know, I’m just waiting,” she finishes. Arcee gives off an aura of calm precision, a balm to her own anxiety that courses through her.

“Waiting for what?” Arcee asks, turning her helm towards Daphne. She’s much smaller than the other Autobots, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t kick serious ass. If she was being honest, Daphne was more scared of going toe-to-toe with Arcee than with her own Guardians. 

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I… I don’t know. Something. The right moment. The right words.”

Arcee chuckles. “When have you, Daphne Winters, ever lacked the right words?” she teases.

Daphne blushes. “Dammit, Arcee, I know, it’s just…” she trails off. 

The Autobot sends her a sympathetic look. “I know what you mean. Embarrassment and worry transcend species.”

She laughs at that. “I just want to find the right words, you know? I don’t want to fuck anything up. And if I don’t have the right words, everything could go topsy turvy and then I’m back at hating myself and everything.” Arcee hums in sympathy.

“Go easy on yourself, kid,” she says, setting a servo on Daphne’s shoulder. “You’ve had a crazy year, crazy couple of months even.” Daphne smiles slightly, glancing down at the lightning-shaped scars that crawl up her arms. She forgets about them sometimes. They seem like a part of her now, as normal as the ever-present blue and white in eyes that seemed like a death sentence last fall. “And it’s okay if you don’t feel ready,” Arcee adds gently. “You were, well,  _ kidnapped,  _ and I know that’s a lot to deal with.” She unconsciously reaches up and touches her neck, the scarring that occurred a few months ago a memory. “They’ll wait for you, you know, if you’re not ready. They care for you. Deeply”

Arcee’s last comment makes her heart sing. “I know that. I… I think I am ready,” Daphne replies slowly. “I think I’ve known how I feel for a while, but I never felt like it was the right time to do anything about it. I’m just still waiting for the right moment and the right words.” She pauses, turning to look at Arcee. “You don’t think it’s weird, right? That…”

“That you, a squishy, are in love with two sentient machines?” Arcee chuckles. “No, I don’t think it’s too weird. Primus works in mysterious ways. Besides, five minutes after I met you, I made a bet with Bulkhead that you and the twins were going to end up together.”

Daphne gapes at her. “Are you serious?” she says. “You-you made a fucking  _ bet _ ?”

Arcee smiles. “Of course. There’s not much to do on this planet anyways.” She pauses, raising a faceplate. “Bulkhead thought you three were never going to happen. Looks like he’ll be doing my patrols for the next month,” she adds gleefully. 

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Whatever,” she scoffs. “But, you think I should do it?”

“Yes. I’m sick and tired of seeing you three mop around,” she replies. “You should do it, Daphne. Nothing will happen if you don’t. You’ll be stuck obsessing over what-ifs.”

“I know,” Daphne admits softly. “I’m just waiting for when I have the right words at the right moment.”


	33. you just haven't earned it yet, baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a girl plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I just added a new book to this series. It collects moments from Daphne's life I wanted to highlight. Let me know if there's anything in particular you want to read about!
> 
> And next chapter we will get: confessions of love!

She hasn’t told them yet. 

It’s been a few days since her talk with Arcee. (It’s been fifteen days, twelve hours, and seven seconds since she last spoke to her Guardians.) Daphne needs to do something about it, this she knows, and she wants to, but the right opportunity hasn’t come up yet. She’s only really seen them in the halls. She hasn’t said anything yet, and neither have they, but she hasn’t run away, which is progress. Not dashed down the halls in the opposite direction like there’s a Decepticon on her heels. Though, she has avoided eye contact and kept her head down. 

None of those moments have felt right. The bond is still buried underneath layers of hurt and longing and betrayal and yearning and fear. She’s stood outside their door, her fist poised to knock, but she hesitates every time. She hesitates and then does nothing about it. 

Hope is a little (read: very) annoyed with her. Daphne can shrug it off, though, even if her friend is projecting her annoyance. She loves her friend and her in-the-moment attitude, but it’s not for Daphne. She’s too anxious and in her head, too future thinking to be able to stick in the present. She draws up a hundred different scenarios in her head, preparing for devastation in every moment of silence. 

She’s been sleeping better now. Hope’s been bunking with her, and her familiar presence combined with the sleeping pills Dr. Jones gave her, Daphne’s been able to sleep through the night. Her powers aren’t clawing at her skin, trying to escape, but she still feels anxious, like a kid hyped up on sugar, and now it’s her heart that’s trying to escape.

But, she accepted her feelings, which is a good first step, made a plan, and several backup plans, and now she knows what to do, and has gone through every single thing that could go wrong. 

The problem is, she actually needs to do it. 

Today, her unit is having its first full-scale practice run, and she’s trying to push the calamity that is her own personal life. Ratchet came up with hard light, programmable practice dummies, based on the Autobot’s own holoform technology. It’s been about a month and a half since the recruits got to base, and it’s time they test their skills as a unit. 

She’s a bit nervous. Hope has just joined their unit, Daphne isn’t on speaking terms with two of the Autobots on their term, and her own powers aren’t incredibly trustworthy at the moment. 

She lied, before. Sure, her powers aren’t exactly haywire as they were a few days ago. She’s no longer reading every single person in the room, their emotions like a suffocating heaviness on her chest. But, that doesn’t mean she’s in control. She’s not in control. 

Let her rephrase: she doesn’t quite trust herself and she’s nervous for herself. 

“Don’t be,” Hope says, breaking Daphne out of her reverie. 

She grimaces, having forgotten Hope can read her racing thoughts. “I know you’re right, but…” she trails off, turning towards her friend. They haven’t yet joined the rest of their unit outside in the hallway.

Hope zips up her sweatshirt. “Don’t get in your head, C. That’ll be your ruin, and then everyone else won’t feel confident if you don’t feel confident.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. She roughly pushes her back with a headband. “Let’s go meet with the rest of our unit.”

They walk out together, Hope’s hand brushing hers. They’ll have to stick close to each other. Hope can’t borrow powers at a long distance, especially because she hasn’t had enough time to practice with anyone else’s powers. Daphne’s always been able to tell when Hope’s using her powers. It’s a tingle at the base of her skull, like someone you can’t see is staring at you. She doesn’t mind, though. She’s willing to do anything to keep Hope safe. 

They turn the corner and meet the rest of their unit, waiting by the exit that will take them into the desert. Their three Autobots stand behind them and Daphne tries not to look at them. “There they are!” Raleigh calls cheerfully, sending a wink Daphne’s way. She rolls her eyes but can’t stop the smile that spreads across her face. She’s never minded his flirting. It’s always respectful and she knows he’d stop if she asked. But she hasn’t. “We worried you guys weren’t coming.”

“Never,” Daphne promises. “You’d really think I’d abandon you, Rals?” she teases, coming to stand by him and Yancy. The older Beckett nods in acknowledgment, rubbing at his eyes. He’s never been a morning person and she’s not surprised by his less than chipper attitude.

He smiles. “Ah, Daph, you will do care for me,” he says, blowing her a kiss. She feels a sharp stab of _angerjealousy_ and she gasps, pressing a hand to her stomach. She looks up and sees her Guardians looking in the opposite direction, staring daggers at the wall. 

Hope sends her a curious glance and Daphne responds with a slight shake of her head. “Alright, kids,” Hope says, addressing their unit. While Daphne was technically in charge, it was the Becketts and Hope who were the combat leaders. 

“You’re younger than, like, all of us, Red,” Destiny jokes, Derek laughing beside her. 

Hope rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I’m in charge, you got problems, take it up with her,” she replies sarcastically, pointing to Daphne. She smiles slightly. “We’ll be having our first practice run today and we’re going to start it off with a lovely, brisk, mile-long walk to the practice site.”

Gabriel groans. “It’s too cold. Why can’t I hitch a ride with Bluestreak?” he whines. 

Bluestreak perks up, his door wings rising. “Oh, I am more than willing to-”

“Nope,” Daphne says, sending a glare Gabriel’s way. “No getting out of this. The ‘Bots gotta haul the equipment for the dummies. No one’s getting out of this.”

The whole unit groans and Hope smiles. “Right, let’s get a move on. We’re burning precious daylight!”

“It-it’s  _ dawn _ !” AJ splutters.

Daphne laughs. “Exactly. We wanna finish before it’s hotter than hell out there.”

Their eyes go wide and they bolt out the exit. “Come on, team, I wanna be done before I burn to a crisp.” AJ’s comment gets everyone moving until it’s just Hope and Daphne left in the base with the three Autobots. 

She hesitates as she nears the exit, looking back at her Guardians. They’re not looking at her. Really, they’re looking at anything that isn’t Daphne as they pick up the various equipment they need. They’re silent as Bluestreaks talks a mile a minute. 

Hope nudges her. “Focus, Daph. Now’s not the time.”

“You’re right,” she sighs. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Even though the sun has just come up, it’s still hot. The early morning breeze is a blessing, but Daphne can feel sweat dripping down her spine. The rest of the unit has pushed up the sleeves of their fatigues and Gabe is already complaining. She notes that she’s the only one not in military garb, wearing slightly padded black clothing that won’t be seen once her armor encircles her. 

“Alright,” she calls, breaking up the conversation. She can feel their nerves and it only serves to amplify her own, her heart beating like a hummingbird in her chest. “Bluestreak and the twins are almost finished setting up the equipment.” The former looks up and gives her an energetic thumbs up. “While they’ll be participating in this exercise, they’ll be focusing on their own opponents. In a real battle, try as they may, the ‘Bots can’t always help us. We’re  _ their  _ backup, and this practice is going to see if we can carry our own weight. Understood?” Her unit nods solemnly. “Excellent. Yancy?”

He nods. “As the Ambassador said, this exercise is going to see if we’re a coherent unit. And just because this practice doesn’t mean you can’t take it seriously. We’re going to be practicing what we’ve been training for the past few weeks. Stick to your pairs and your larger groups of four. Got it?”

The four of them, the Becketts, Hope, and Daphne have put everyone into pairs and groups of four. They are a large unit and wanted to make sure no one is left behind. Silas and Gabriel are paired together, grouped with Ramal and Victor. Then, Kota and Iolana with the Baqri twins. Destiny and Derek with AJ. Daphne feels bad about leaving AJ on their own, but Destiny and Derek promised to not leave them behind. 

She and Hope are paired together as are the Becketts. The Beckett’s job is to stick close to the rest of their unit, while she and Hope were floaters, free to go where they please. 

“Bluestreak, is everything ready?” Hope calls. 

“Yup!” he says excitedly. “It’s ready to go whenever you are.” In sharp contrast, her Guardians are silent. 

“They alright?” Raleigh asks from beside her, leaning in and whispering it in her ear. “They’ve been super quiet. They haven’t said anything to you, either.”

She stiffens as another wave of  _ angerjealousywant  _ stabs her in the stomach. “I- it’s complicated,” she breaths, leaning on him as the pain makes her want to double over. 

He frowns, grabbing her by the waist and helping to hold her up. “Are you okay, Daph?”

She fakes a smile as the pain only doubles. “Yup, just cramps,” she lies through her teeth. It takes considerable strength to stand up, her fingernails digging into her thighs. 

Raleigh blushes slightly. “O-okay, great, so glad that you are okay,” he says, his words rushing together. His grip still lingers on her waist and she doesn’t mind the added strength to keep her upright. He clears his throat. “Everyone ready?”

Hope nods, orange sparking at her fingertips. She’s tried to copy Daphne’s armor, but it doesn’t quite seem to catch. Hope’s own powers gather around her hands and stop at her forearms. “Daph?”

The pain is still there but she manages to call up her own magic. It’s been a while since she last did this and it feels familiar. But not. It takes slightly longer than usual for her armor to crawl up her and slightly more concentration. Hope frowns and Daphne waves of her concern. “Ready. Fire it up, Bluestreak!”

One moment there was nothing and in the next, they were standing in the middle of a firefight. Even the ‘Bots seem surprised at the quickness of Ratchet’s tech. The holo-Cons seem almost real, with black armor and red eyes, but they’re slightly see-through. And there’s a lot of them. 

Swearing, Daphne pushes Raleigh and Hope behind her as a holo-Con pops up in front of her. She sends out a blast, watching in fascination as her magic sparks along the holo-Con and sends it flying backward. “Go to Yancy, Rals,” she orders, once the immediate threat is out of the way. 

He nods, jogging over to Yancy, Silas, Gabriel, Victor, and Ramal, who were surprised as well by a holo-Con. 

Hope moves from out behind her and stands next to her. “Quick thinking, C,” she says, before sending out a helpful blast in Rals and Yancy’s direction. 

The holo-Cons are focusing on the ‘Bots, which isn’t a surprise, but their unit is putting in the work. AJ is single-handedly fighting one, their snake avatar in bright green contrast to the muted colors of the holo-Con, Derek, and Destiny providing backup. 

“Fuck,” Hope hisses, drawing their attention to Kota’s group who’s pinned down by two holo-Cons and struggling. “Cover me.”

Daphne complies, throwing up a shield to protect from stray blasts. They run across the plain to join the group. Kota and the Baqri twins are trying to fight the bigger of holo-Cons, with emphasis on  _ try.  _ “Our powers aren’t working against it,” Kota yells, throwing up a ball of light that it swats away. She can’t see Maira, assuming she’s invisible, and she can see the slight wrongness in the air around Amal that suggests she’s trying to confuse it with sound. “It’s only a holoform, so it’s not affected by sound or light.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Hope swears, blasting at its feet. “Iolana’s alone?”

“Go help her, I’ll take care of this one,” she orders. Hope dashes off as the smaller holo-Con blasts at Iolana. She sees the pink of Iolana’s powers and breathes a sigh of relief. “Kota, Maira, Amal, watch my back!”

She pulls energy from the sun, letting it buzz under her skin before flicking it at the bigger of the two holo-Cons. It shudders and the three recruits hop backward, Maira reappearing. 

It turns toward her, its red beady eyes on her. “Yeah, come at me, ugly,” she taunts. It charges at her and she tries to pull energy from it, only to remember it’s not alive. “Fuck,” she says, jumping to the side. 

It comes back at her and she throws up a shield at it. Growling, it charges at her again. She pulls her shield down, moving to the side, and watches it crash into the ground. 

She pulls energy down from the sun and blasts it into the holo-Con’s back. It shudders again, the hard light cracking slightly like glass. 

And right as she’s about to blast it into smithereens, she hears a scream and a growl. She turns her head to see Raleigh on the ground, a holo-Con over him. And she sees Sideswipe pinned down by a holo-Con and something sparks in her and-

_ -oh fuck it’s right on top of me, Jesus Christ it hurts- _

_ -RALEIGH, YOU CANNOT HURT MY BROTHER YOU PIECE OF SHIT- _

_ -oh shit they’re pinned down and Sides is hurt- _

_ -are they okay? Do they need help? Fuck, I can’t leave AJ, I promised the Ambassador- _

_ -bloody hell- _

_ -hurtangerirration- _

_ -worryangerconcentration- _

-and Raleigh is hurt and Sides is hurt and Yancy is scared and Ramal is worried and Derek wants to help and Gabe doesn’t know what to do and it all rushes over her and overwhelms her. It sounds like a swarm of bees in her head and she can't concentrate and she can't think. Her Guardian is hurt, her teammate is hurt, _Sideswipe_ __ is hurt, she needs to do something. 

Her head buzzes with everything, everyone else’s feelings and thoughts drown her and she can’t find herself, and her armor collapses around her. She falls to the ground, grabbing her head, a scream bubbling up in her throat. 

- _ oh god, is Daphne okay? She just froze and oh shit- _

_ -what can I do what can I do what can I do- _

_ -fuck, I’m pinned, I can’t help her, Daphne, Daphne, Daphne- _

“DAPHNE!” someone yells and suddenly she is anchored to a person, a moment, she’s no longer falling. 

And a holo-Con is over her, moments away from blasting. She screams, rolling away as its fist comes down, nicking her shoulder. She gets her armor up in time and the blast that would have certainly broken several of her ribs only bruises them. 

She gasps, flipping over onto her back. It looms over her and she screams again. She’s acting on instinct and she draws energy from somewhere and throws her hands to the side, her vision exploding into blue. 

The holo-Con shatters into a million pieces, the hardlight cutting her cheek. She throws up a shield and tries to catch her breath. 

“DAPHNE!” someone yells again, and it’s more urgent. It’s Hope, and, somehow, another holo-Con has joined the one they were previously fighting. It’s only Hope and Iolana, the other three trying their best to fight as well.

Daphne takes a deep breath, drawing in her magic, her powers, clinging onto the steady hum that is Hope’s mind. She’s in control. She’s in control. 

She takes Iolana’s first, the older woman pushing back against the holo-Con with her pink shield. She’s putting up a valiant effort, but she’s struggling, on her knees. 

Daphne feels guilty for a moment, but no one has gotten hurt because of her. Only herself. 

She pulls in energy, her powering humming. As she runs to Iolana, she blasts it out, the air flashing blue. The holo-Con shatters. 

“Hope!” she calls, running to Hope. She can feel that her friend has acknowledged her, her orange magic pounding against the holo-Con. She pushes her idea to her friend and Hope agrees. “On three!” she yells, skidding to a stop behind the holo-Con. Amal is a few yards away and she’s grateful for the other woman concealing her voice. “One, two, three!”

In synch, she and Hope blast the holo-Con. Their power mixes, blue and orange, and it disintegrates. Their eyes meet and she can feel Hope’s concern, worry for her. And Daphne has no answers for what occurred minutes before.

It’s silent and her ears are ringing. 

“Daphne?” She turns and sees Sunstreaker standing behind her. His optics are wide, blindingly blue, and meeting his optics  _ hurt.  _ She can almost feel his  _ fear-panic-anxiety.  _ “You-you’re okay?”

She blinks, her armor collapsing in on itself. “I-” she starts. “I think?”

He nods and then it’s like a switch flipped. His optics grow closed off and she can’t feel anything. And he walks away, to where Sideswipe is standing, unharmed. 

Her breath hitches.

And she thinks of everything she could say.  _ I love you. I’m sorry. We can make this work. I thought you were hurt and I panicked and I almost self-destructed. I love you I love you I love you.  _

But she doesn’t. She pushes it down and turns away. 

“Raleigh, you okay?” she calls. From across the field, he gives a thumbs up. 

“Yup!” he calls. He’s leaning on Yancy. “Got pinned down, but I’m pretty okay. Just hurt my ankle.”

“Everyone else?” she says, moving towards the middle of the field. “Sound off.”

“Kota?”

“Fine. Lost a bit of pride, but okay.”

“Amal?”

“Unhurt.”

“Mairi?” 

“Pissed off, but okay."

“Iolana?”

“Fine!”

“Derek?”

“Right as rain.”

“Destiny?”

“Stop with the corniness, Derek. And I’m okay.”

“AJ?”

“Alright! Just tired.”

“Victor?”

“O-okay.”

“Gabe?”

“Bloody exhausted, but okay.”

“Silas?”

“Okay.”

“Ramal?”

“Fine!”

“Yancy?”

“A-okay.”

“Raleigh?”

“My handsome face is intact, my lady.”

A distant piercing pain.

“H-hope?”

“I’m fine,” she frowns, turning to Daphne. “Are you okay?”

She sighs, then flinches, grabbing at her ribs. “I think my ribs are bruised. Shit.”

Hope wraps her arm around her. “Why didn’t you say something? Let’s get you to Ratchet.”

* * *

“Take it easy for the next few days,” Ratchet instructs. He gently wraps medical tape around her ribs and she hisses. His optics rise to meet hers. “Dear one, Bluestreak told me you collapsed during the exercise. Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she gets out, looking down. “I, I just got overwhelmed.”

Ratchet frowns and she feels the prickles of his scan. “You seem tired, distressed. Why did you participate in the exercise, then?”

“They’re my unit, Ratchet. And I was,  _ am  _ fine. As I said, I got overwhelmed,” she says, her tone sharp. 

“And what do your Guardians think about this?”

Her head snaps again and she can feel his satisfaction. “I, uh, they, uh, they’re not worried,” she stumbles. Ratchet cannot know. That is _far_ too embarrassing. 

“Really?” he asks, raising a faceplate. “Because just minutes before you walked in, I had two raging frontliners in here threatening to dismantle me for my ‘fragging creations.’”

She blushes “I-”

“Curiously,” he cuts her off. “As soon as I mentioned you were going to be in my med bay in a minute or less, they went silent, and ran out of the room.” He pauses and fixes her with a look. Jesus Christ, it’s like being looked through. “Now, dear one, what would that be about?”

She gulps. She’s heard of Ratchet’s legendary dressing downs but she never thought she’d be on the receiving end. “Ratchet, do you really want to know?”

He scoffs, leaning back as he finishes wrapping her ribs. “Would I have asked if I didn’t want to know?”

She doesn’t know if her face can get any redder. “Well, uh,” she stumbles, before taking a shallow breath. “SidesandIalmostkissedandthenSunnywalkedinandthenSidesranawayandthen _ I _ ranawayandIthinktheymighthatemeandwehaven’ttalkedsince but I think I love them,” she says, the words rushing together. 

He blinks. “Ah, I see,” he replies. “ _ Love _ ,” he adds, his lip curling. “It was inevitable, I suppose. We all saw it coming.”

She laughs, but immediately regrets it, holding her ribs. “Ouch, shit. You know, Arcee said the same thing.”

“Arcee knew before I did?” he questions, appalled. “I’m offended, dear one. I thought we were close.”

She holds in her laugh this time. “We are, Ratchet. I-I just didn’t know what to think or feel or  _ do. _ ”

“Do you know now?” he asks. 

“I think so,” she replies softly. 

Before Ratchet can say anything more, Optimus walks in. She can feel his EM field, the concern that surrounds him. “Ah, Daphne. I am happy that you are well.”

“I am,” she smiles. “Just a little bruised, nothing more.”

“I am happy to hear that,” he says pleasantly. “Besides yours and the younger Beckett’s injury, did the exercise prove fruitful?”

“It did. I think our team will do great. Ratchet’s holo-Cons are… something else,” she says. 

Ratchet preens. “Thank you, I’m quite proud of it. I must tell Wheeljack when he makes planetfall.”

“He will be quite interested in seeing them in action,” Optimus agrees. He shifts his attention back to Daphne. “Your Guardians are wanting to see you. They’re out in the hall.”

_ Oh.  _


End file.
